


The Education of Doumeki Haruka

by ekaterin24 (zlabya)



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Archery, Backstory, Buddhism, Childhood, Courtship, Doumeki Shizuka as a child, Doumeki family history, Exorcisms, Explains a lot about Haruka, F/M, Family, Ghosts, Horses, How Doumeki Haruka became so talented and wise, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marriage, Old Age, Pre-Canon, Romance, Sexual Content, Teenagers, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:19:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zlabya/pseuds/ekaterin24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life (and afterlife) of Doumeki's grandfather, Haruka, starting with Haruka's earliest childhood memories and going through his afterlife dream-visits with Watanuki. (The Major Character Death is Haruka's death, which occurs as it does in canon.)<br/>Crossposted from my LiveJournal (ekaterin24)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This part begins with an early pre-World War II memory of his first Shichi-go-san ceremony, goes through the realities of World War II for a family of Buddhist priests with spouses and children, and ends in the Occupation period when Haruka was in his early teens.  
> This chapter is PG-13 for wartime violence and minor-character death. World War II is seen from the perspective of the Japanese so the Americans don't come off very well. I'm not condoning what the Japanese did (yes, I'm a US citizen) or the Americans for that matter (my personal pacifism probably comes through in the story). If you have objections to such a perspective, please don't trouble yourself to read this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've found conflicting accounts of the ages for boys and girls for the Shichi-go-san ceremony (a Shinto ceremony for children of certain ages) and have used a fairly reliable source that suits the story. Likewise, I can't find much about traditions among Buddhist priestly families, so I went with what works for the story. Shinto and Buddhist traditions are often interwoven so I assumed that at least some Buddhist priests would participate in Shinto practices.
> 
> Zashiki Warashi are traditionally house spirits that bring prosperity to the home. They seem to also be spirits of certain locations. The Zashiki Warashi in Xxxholic canon apparently "belonged" to the mountain mentioned in the manga.

Haruka's first memory was of going to the local Shinto shrine for Shichi-go-san the fall after he turned three. Before they left, his cousin Kiku had insisted on telling him everything that would happen, because she had her ceremony last year and knew all about it. Everyone went. Haruka rode with Grandfather, Mother and Father in the horse-cart, since Father couldn't walk that far because of his bad leg. His uncles, Aunt Kuni, and Cousin Kiku all walked. Mother had made him a blue kimono with fish on it, and after the ceremony Father bought him a fancy stick of candy. Haruka let everyone have a taste–they didn't get candy very often anymore. "Times are hard," Haruka heard the grownups say, often. And they always seemed to get harder. Haruka cried when Grandfather had to sell both his horses that winter so they would have enough coal to heat the temple, and enough rice for everyone.

The next year was no better. Father and his friends often talked about a new "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere." They must have talked about it a hundred times, so Haruka finally asked Father about it. Usually he asked Grandfather questions because Grandfather was the head priest and seemed to know nearly everything. Father knew more about modern life and things going on around the world, though, because he worked for a newspaper. He explained to Haruka that Japan needed more things like metal and food, and was going to take over other parts of Asia so everyone in Asia would be able to have more nice things.

"Can't the Emperor make everyone hurry?" Haruka asked. "We need more food now." He wanted candy and white rice, and Grandfather's horses back again.

"It's not that simple, Haruka," Father said. "You'll understand better when you're older."

"When I go to school next spring?"

Father shook his head, smiling a little, which he didn't do often those days. "Not that soon, Haruka"

That was the fall Haruka wore hakama and a grownup-style jacket for the first time, to celebrate being five at the Shinto shrine. Grandfather paid to have a picture taken of everyone after they went to the shrine, with everyone smiling in their new clothes, so maybe co-prosperity was finally starting.

***

Haruka wasn't as happy with his new school clothes the following spring. He had to wear shorts, which meant his bare knees got itchy when he played in the dirt. He also had to wear a stupid cap that he was always forgetting at school, at his friend Shinobu's house down the lane, or out at the pond. He liked school, though, especially learning how to write.

"Using a brush is fun!" he told Father, showing all the strokes he could make.

Kiku made a face at him. Whenever she wrote, she got smears on the page and on her clothes. Finally, he could do something better than she could. Maybe that was why Uncle Kazuo seemed unhappy. Uncle never said anything, but Haruka saw him frown sometimes when he went into the temple to help with a funeral or other ceremony. He never did it in front of Grandfather, though!

"Can you make Uncle Kazuo happier?" he asked Zashiki Warashi. Zashiki was his best friend, next to Shinobu. She was in the kitchen sometimes, and liked when Haruka brought her flowers. Kiku teased him and said he'd made her up, but when he asked Grandfather about her, he smiled and replied, "So, you can see her too?"

"Is she your friend also, Grandfather?"

"Spirits aren't exactly friends of humans, but we are friendly. Yes, I do see her, and I talk with her at night when everyone is asleep. Your Uncle Taki could see her when he was younger, but Taki says he can only feel her presence now."

"So Kiku can't see her because she's a girl?"

"No, your Uncle Kazuo and your father never could, nor could my brother. And my great-aunt could always see and talk with her. Only a few members of the Doumeki family can see and talk with her.

"Does that make me special? Does it mean I will be a good priest?"

"It means you have a gift that will bring you special work, and dangers, Haruka. I will teach you all I can. Being able to see spirits is a great responsibility. When you're older, you may be able to make them go away too."

"I don't want Zashiki to go away!"

"No, of course not. She watches over us, and helps to make our home happy and prosperous."

"I want to help keep her happy more than ever, then!"

"My great-aunt said she likes peach blossoms the best. Next spring you can bring her some."

***

Zashiki couldn't stop Uncle Kazuo from going away that fall, though, or keep Grandfather from being angry about it. Grandfather found the letter Uncle left on the dining-room table. Everyone came running when they heard Grandfather shouting.

"How could he? A son of mine, and a Buddhist priest, joining the military! He shall never cross this threshold again!" He passed the letter to Uncle Taki, who read it out loud.

"I have gone to join the Imperial Air Force. I could never be content as a priest, and my duty to the Emperor and to follow my soul's calling to fly in the air calls me."

"What rubbish! Ah!" Grandfather sat down heavily. "I am sorry. I should not allow myself to become so angry."

Haruka slipped away to talk with Zashiki.

"I do not have the power to stop him, and I'm not sure it would be right." she told Haruka. "He was very unhappy here. Your uncle is truly called to fly the machines in the sky. I cannot protect him out there, though." She hid her face in her hands. "Haruka, stay close."

"I will," he promised. "I know I want to be a priest. And I could never kill a person; I don't even like to kill flies."

Mother came in to make breakfast, with Aunt Kuni. "Haruka-san, please go get ready for school."

"I have time–" he began, but he knew better than to do anything but obey when Mother wore that face. He ran out, catching only Aunt Kuni's first words:

"Kanae, I knew he was unhappy but I...."

Two days later, Aunt Kuni and Kiku went away on the train. "I'm going home to help my parents with the farm," Aunt Kuni told him, kneeling beside the bundles she had made for the trip. "Send me a letter, Haruka, I want to read about your adventures."

***

Haruka didn't miss Kiku one bit, but Aunt Kuni had made delicious udon soups, and Uncle Kazuo had drawn marvelous pictures of trains and automobiles and, most often, airplanes. Also, Haruka didn't like seeing everyone in the house so unhappy, Grandfather the saddest of everyone. Haruka tried to cheer up Grandfather when he came home from school. He was careful not to talk about the magnificent Zero airplane Shinobu's father had bought him. He asked about Buddhism instead. Grandfather started teaching him to read the sutras on Saturday afternoons, when school was only half a day. He didn't understand why Shinobu thought he was crazy to do extra schoolwork.

"Reading the sutras will always help you, Haruka-kun," Grandfather said, "even when you don't understand them. They are a comfort to me now, as you are." He rested a hand on Haruka's head, something only Mother usually did.

Mother was unhappy too. Sometimes one or two of her friends would come for tea, and they would talk in quiet voices. Haruka wanted to hear, but Grandfather would shoo him away. "Women have their own sphere," he explained.

"Like the Co-Prosperity Sphere?" Haruka asked.

"No...ah, perhaps a little. They help each other. Your mother is missing your aunt. She has to do the housework alone now, and they were good friends. Also, she has...other women's concerns."

***

As the year went on, everyone slowly became happier again. There was more good food to share with the ancestors at the O-Bon festival that summer, and Mother made everyone new clothes for the fall. Haruka got a new store-bought school uniform for the fall term too. Mother put the old one away.

"I hope we'll need it again someday," Haruka heard her murmur.

Then came the news that Japan had started fighting the United States. Shinobu wanted to play "bomb the gaijin harbor" all the time.

"But they killed people," Haruka objected. "And some of our people died too, Father said."

"They died for the glory of the Emperor!" Shinobu shouted. When Haruka just shook his head, though, he asked, "Would you rather play with your new ball?"

"Yeah!"

They started kicking the ball around, two other boys came running to join them, and they all had a fine time.

Mother scolded about Haruka's dirty school uniform, though, and the cap that he'd left somewhere in Shinobu's yard again.

"Mother's very tired these days," she said, shaking out the shorts in the courtyard to get out as much dust as she could.

"You've been eating a lot," Haruka pointed out, staring at Mother's round stomach. "That always makes me sleepy."

Mother laughed. "It's not that I have been eating so much, but...Haruka, come inside with me." She led the way to the living room, carefully lowering herself onto the nearest cushion. Haruka sat beside her, wondering at the little smile on Mother's face.

"Haruka-kun, my belly is getting bigger because there is a baby growing inside me. You're going to be a big brother in a few months."

"Oh." Haruka remembered that sometimes one of Mother's friends would grow a big belly, and then be thin the next time he saw her. And, yes, once she was thin again she usually brought a screaming baby with her. "How did the baby get inside there?"

Mother coughed and turned red. "When you get older, your father will explain that to you."

"Is it complicated?" Everything grownups wouldn't explain, like how a train worked or why Grandfather and Haruka were the only ones in the family with gold eyes instead of black, was complicated.

"Yes, it is." Mother was sort-of-smiling again.

Grandfather came in just then, with a small basket. "Kanae, a parishioner just gave us these walnuts. Can you use them for dinner tonight?"

Mother started to rise, but Grandfather shook his head. "Stay and rest a little, Kanae. I'll put them in the kitchen."

That was unusual. Grandfather must be extremely happy about the walnuts.

***

The baby arrived on a spring morning just a few days before Haruka started fifth grade. Little Keiko cried a lot, just as his friends had warned him, and when she wasn't crying, she was nursing. Haruka talked with Zashiki about her.

"She sounds very healthy." Zashiki said. "Strong."

 _"Loud,"_ Haruka added.

"Almost as loud as you were." Zashiki smiled. "I remember. Everyone was so happy there was a baby boy in the family."

"Boys are more important, aren't they?" As soon as he said it, Haruka remembered that Zashiki was a girl, or at least, a girl-spirit. "Umm, I mean, they're the ones who do work that brings in money so everyone can eat. Girls are important because they, ahh, cook, and have babies."

"Some girls do more than that." Zashiki said.

"Like you. You're a spirit, and you keep good things happening in the house."

"Human girls do special things too. They are midwives, like the woman who helped the mother have your little sister safely; and teachers; and some of them can see and work with spirits and youkai like your grandfather can, and like you will when you are ready."

Haruka remembered what his grandfather had said about his gift. He'd learned about all kinds of spirits and youkai–umbrella-youkai were his favorite, because they looked so odd–but he hadn't seen any but Zashiki so far.

She seemed to read his mind. "The gift, and using it, gets stronger with puberty."

"What's that?"

"When you start becoming a man. Your father will explain it when the time comes."

Haruka wanted to know things now, though. The world was so confusing sometimes. For instance, he couldn't understand why so many people were happy about the war, even the parents who brought in their son's remains for a funeral. He asked Grandfather about it as they sat in the courtyard on a bright autumn day.

"They consider it a great honor for their son to have died in the service of the Emperor, for the glory of Japan," Grandfather explained.

"But is it a great honor?"

Grandfather sighed. "What is honorable depends on what one believes. I believe that serving the Buddha as a priest is one of the greatest honors in the world. One of which I do not feel worthy."

"But you're the best priest ever!"

Grandfather chuckled. "I do my best, but Haruka, I have failed many times. My heart is still not entirely quiet about my eldest son, and I have not always followed the Eightfold Path in other ways as well."

Just then, Harada-san, the only priest who wasn't one of Haruka's relatives, entered the courtyard. He bowed. "Doumeki-sama, a person is waiting for you out at the gate."

"Harada, why did you not bid him enter, and ask Kanae to bring him some tea?"

"He is a military man. I think it is best that he not set foot inside the temple grounds."

"I'll go to him." Grandfather quickly stood, and strode heavily toward the front of the temple compound. Haruka hurried behind.

Haruka recognized the man's Imperial Air Force uniform from posters he'd seen when his parents took him into the city. Grandfather listened to the man and nodded once. He spoke quietly, then each of them bowed. The airman turned smartly on his heel and headed toward the automobile parked at the edge of the street.

Grandfather's face was solemn. "He came to tell me in person. Kazuo has entered the afterlife, in service to the emperor. His airplane was completely destroyed in the air, so they could not retrieve any of his remains. The man who came to deliver this information is bringing similar news to other families in our area, and out to the countryside to tell Kuni-san."

Haruka bit his lip. He hadn't seen Uncle Kazuo in a long time, but he still missed him, and now he would not see him again in this life. And Kiku wouldn't have a father anymore, not even one far away in the war.... _No, I won't cry, I'll be a good Buddhist and remain serene..._

Haruka burst into tears, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

Grandfather put an arm around Haruka's shoulder and turned him around, guiding him back toward the house. After a few paces he stopped. Haruka felt his grandfather's arm shake. He blinked and looked up to see tears on his grandfather's face, and wrinkles he had never noticed before.

"Grandfather..." He pulled his handkerchief out of his sleeve and held it up. Grandfather took it and wiped his face. They walked slowly to the doorway. "We will sit here and compose ourselves a moment. Then I will go in and tell your uncle and mother."

***

Just after New Year's, another military man came to the temple gate–this time from the Imperial Army. Haruka was just coming home from school and greeted the officer, bowing and offering assistance.

"I am here to speak with Doumeki Takishima" the man replied, not nearly as politely as grown-up visitors usually addressed Haruka. He was definitely not going to invite the man in–he'd probably killed people, or sent others to kill them, which Father and Grandfather agreed was just as wrong.

"I will see if he is here. Please wait here a moment." Haruka bowed again and ran into the house, where Uncle Taki usually spent afternoons going over temple supplies and finances, and sneaking a bit of whatever Mother was making for dinner.

Mother looked up from the soft tofu she was preparing and explained that Uncle Taki had walked down to the shops to buy incense. "Your grandfather is in the temple readying it for a funeral; please let him know."

Haruka did, and accompanied Grandfather to the temple gate.

The officer bowed quickly to Grandfather, then introduced himself without apology. "Your son Doumeki Takashima is needed in the Imperial Army. And I understand there are other adult men living here, another Doumeki and...Harada-san?"

"My son Doumeki Takashima and Kenji Harada-san are both priests at this temple. My son Jiro resides here as well."

The officer looked at a clipboard in his hand. "We require all three men to appear at the Second Imperial Recruitment Station at this address." The officer handed Grandfather a small piece of paper. "They are to appear within the week, for a physical examination and other preparations for entry into the Imperial Army."

"I am concerned that there might be confusion regarding this summons." Grandfather responding, holding the paper away from himself with the tips of two fingers. "Harada-san and Doumeki Takashima-san are both Buddhist priests, as I am, and as such are forbidden to take life in any way."

"The Imperial Army is in need of all men capable of serving the Emperor as soldiers. We can no longer allow priests, even our Shinto priests, to remain in their temples and shrines when they are needed to serve the Emperor and secure Japan's victory in this war."

Grandfather was still and silent as the temple gate itself. And as firmly rooted. Haruka thought he would simply stare the officer out of the gateway and down the road. But eventually he asked, "And myself?"

"Men of your years can serve best in local defense work. And we are aware that some priests are needed in order to conduct funerals for those who have had the honor of sacrificing their lives."

Haruka nearly took a step back, seeing his grandfather's golden eyes burning like a flame in a lantern.

"My son Jiro suffered an illness as a child and has a withered leg. He cannot stand without a cane. Is he required to appear?

"He must appear so our doctors can confirm his unsuitability for military service," the officer replied.

"I will pass this information on to my sons and to Harada-san. Thank you for your trouble." Grandfather bowed about as deeply as he did to Mother's friends when they visited.

"Thank you, Doumeki-san." The man bowed to exactly the same depth Grandfather had, and stiffly turned to stride down the street to the next building.

Grandfather turned away, heading back toward the main temple building. Harada-san met him at the door. Haruka ran to the kitchen to tell Mother the whole story.

"The soldier," he nearly spat the word, "never apologized to Grandfather, not once! And he didn't trust Grandfather when he said that Father's leg didn't work well enough for him to be a soldier! I hate this war, I really do! No prosperity is worth all this. They're killing people, even if they are gaijin, and our soldiers and sailors and pilots–even Uncle died and now they want–Mother! What if Uncle Taki gets killed too?"

"Shh!" Mother insisted. "Don't even say such things!"

Haruka gasped. "Could it happen just because I said it?"

"Probably not. Surely not." Mother sounded uncertain. "Haruka, dear, is Keiko awake? I haven't felt her move, but sometimes she wakes up without fussing." She turned so Haruka could check the baby, who was in a bundle on Mother's back.

"Still asleep," he answered softly."

"Good. Time for a snack for you, and for me," Mother rose and set a pot of water to boil for tea.

Haruka didn't hear what Grandfather said to his father and uncle when they returned just before dinner, because Mother had taken him to Shinobu's house and arranged for him to have dinner there. He'd really wanted to know more about it. He told Shinobu about it, and learned that the soldier had given Shinobu's father a summons also.

"What about the store?" Haruka asked.

"Mother will have to run it herself. And I'll help." Shinobu seemed more grown up with those few words.

The next day, Uncle Taki and Harada-san both joined Father on the train into the city. Father was quickly rejected, but the army took both Uncle Taki and Harada-san. They took Shinobu's father too, and most of the fathers who hadn't already gone to the war. Everyone's mother and grandmother and big sister was putting stitches into thousand-stitch belts.

"Do you pray over them?" Haruka asked his mother.

"I think of how the man who will wear it is loved by the woman who started it–by his mother, his wife, his sister, or whoever he has to make one for him."

Mother had made Uncle Taki's belt, since he had no wife or sister, and Grandmother had died before Haruka was born. Harada-san's mother sent him one with five hundred stitches already in it from women in and around his hometown.

***

That spring Father's job at the newspaper ended. No one wanted translations of international news anyway; they only wanted to read about how the Americans were being defeated by the Imperial forces. Father helped Grandfather as best he could with temple duties. Grandfather grumbled about how no one would trust a priest they thought was cursed, so Father didn't perform any of the ceremonies. He kept the inventory and finances as Uncle Taki had, cleaned whatever temple objects he could manage, helped with preparations for funerals, and wrote the special names for people going on to the afterlife in his beautiful calligraphy.

Father also made Haruka stop going to school, once he got a good look at the textbooks.

"These are not going to help you learn everything you need to know about the world, Haruka," he said. "Also, you will be a priest in the temple someday, so you need to learn more from Grandfather. You and I will learn some things together."

The school principal was a Buddhist and a friend of Father's, so he made arrangements for Haruka to be allowed to be taught at home. Father taught him classical and modern literature, kanji , calligraphy, history, geography, and mathematics. Grandfather helped both of them with the sutras, taught about priestly duties and Buddhist traditions, and taught them some Shinto practices as well, especially purification and healing practices. He also taught Haruka to care for the plants and trees in the temple compound, which had been one of Uncle Taki's tasks. Haruka was happier because he found his home studies more interesting than what was in the new textbooks, and he could still play with his friends after school. He didn't even mind that he was missing the thrill of attending junior high school, especially when he saw the stiff high-collared jacket Shinobu and his other friends had to wear.

Food was getting scarce again–there wasn't much food for them or the ancestors at O-Bon, and it was cold even inside that winter because of coal and wood shortages.

***

One winter day Haruka and Shinobu were racing around the temple courtyard, as much to keep warm as to have fun, when Haruka felt a shadow overhead. "It doesn't feel like snow–" he said, looking up. There were planes, dozens of them. The air-raid siren began to sound.

Father came hobbling outside. He looked up at the sky. "Holy Buddha," he whispered.

"Perhaps I should go home," Shinobu began.

"Please stay here, Shinobu-kun." Father's voice was quiet. "Your mother knows you are here, and we will keep you safe. Come inside, now." Father touched Haruka's back, something he rarely did, as he guided the boys inside.

"There are nearly a hundred American planes overhead." Father announced.

"We shall be protected," Grandfather stated.

Father shook his head. "I don't think the Emperor can save us, Father"

"My trust is not in the Emperor or in human soldiers, Jiro. We are Buddha's servants, in his temple. And I've seen in a dream that this temple shall stand for decades. Haruka will bring his bride to this place, and raise children here."

They stayed in the cellar under the temple, nearly beneath the statue of Buddha. Haruka could hear the bombs go off, and a rushing sound that Father said was like a typhoon wind. When it was all over, Haruka begged to accompany Grandfather to see what had happened. He smelled smoke before Grandfather even opened the door. The temple and outbuildings were undamaged, as Grandfather was quick to point out, as was most of their neighborhood. But their old elementary school, just ten minutes' walk away, had collapsed, and most of the wooden homes near it had burned to the ground.

***

Two days later, Haruka and Shinobu were climbing around on one of the piles of stone and charred wood. Shinobu saw something glittering and ran toward it. Haruka felt something behind him, though, and turned around. There was a lady, withered and in torn clothing with black stains on it. "What is wrong, ma'am?" he asked. "Should I get the doctor?"

She didn't say anything.

Shinobu turned around. "Who are you talking to?"

"This lady," He turned to ask her name–maybe Mother or Grandfather knew her.

"There's no one there!" Shinobu objected.

"She's right in front of you, in a blue jacket. Are you blind?"

Shinobu insisted no one was there.

"Idiot!" Haruka yelled, and ran home. Something was extremely odd about this person but he knew that, somehow, Grandfather could help.

Grandfather listened patiently to his story.

"I think I know what she needs," Grandfather responded quietly. "Take me to where you saw her–but wait a moment first."

He rummaged in Mother's rag-basket and took out a long, bright-red scrap of fabric. Haruka led Grandfather to the ruins of the house. The lady was still there, whispering something in a broken voice. Grandfather stood stock-still and listened.

"Can you see her again, Haruka?"

"Yes."

"And hear her?"

"A little. Grandfather, why aren't you trying to help her?"

"We can't help her anymore, Haruka. She's dead. Her body must be somewhere in this rubble."

Haruka didn't understand at first. Then he remembered some of Grandfather's stories. "Is she a ghost?"

"Yes, she's a ghost. She can't rest, probably because her family hasn't been able to recover her body and bury her properly. We need to find them and arrange for a proper funeral.

Grandfather recognized the house; the family had been to the temple many times. Two days later, the lady's ashes was brought in for funeral rites. The woman's mother-in-law, who had been at a friend's house when their home was burned, brought a small sack of rice as payment.

"It's not very much, I know. But I have little else, until the Army send the next pension check from my late son. I do have something for the boy who found her." She handed Haruka a small book of adventure stories, with colored illustrations. "My son loved this book when he about your age. He'd hoped to pass it on to his son someday, but that won't happen now."

Haruka wished he could show the book to Shinobu, but his friend been sent to the country along with all the other school-age boys and girls in town. Haruka had been left behind because he wasn't on the school attendance list.

Their district was firebombed again, right when the Cherry Blossom Festival would have begun, if anyone had been able to celebrate. The fires didn't come as close to Haruka's neighborhood as they had before. But the third time, a firestorm came like a wall of flames, so hot that they could feel it even from the cellar in the water-soaked clothes Father had insisted they all wear. This time Shinobu's house was destroyed--Shinobu's mother had heard the wind and run to the temple, pounding on the trapdoor Mother had told her about so they could open it and help her inside. Only the bare ground Grandfather had plowed to plant herbs stopped the fire from attacking the temple compound, though Haruka was sure Buddha and their Zashiki were protecting them as well.)

Afterward, both Haruka and his grandfather went out, actively looking for ghosts. Haruka had thought being able to see ghosts like Grandfather and Uncle Taki would be fun, but it was only sad, especially the pregnant lady who wouldn't stop crying until Grandfather finished reading a sutra for her after her funeral. If it weren't for the funeral payments, they would have been very hungry. As it was, they ate only two small meals a day. Even though little Keiko was old enough to eat regular food now, Mother kept nursing her. Haruka thought she was lucky, because Mother's milk had to be better than the acorn-flour dumplings that were all they had to eat besides a few spring herbs.

By early summer, even two meals a day were hard to come by. One night the payment for the latest funeral was all they had for supper: two small, somewhat wrinkled peaches with brown spots on them.

"How shall we divide these?" Mother asked.

"Each of us gets a half." Grandfather said. "You and Haruka each should have half of the larger peach–he is growing and you need to feed both yourself and Keiko."

"But Father, you and Jiro should..."

"No, my wife," Haruka's father responded quietly. "Father is right. Take a larger piece for yourself and the child."

Haruka ate his half a peach slowly. It was the only sweet food he'd had in weeks.

***

The news about the war was getting worse too. It seemed they might even lose. "What do we do if the American soldiers come up to our temple?" Haruka asked his father and grandfather one afternoon. They were so worn-out and hungry that neither of them was teaching him anymore.

"We sit in the temple and pray to Buddha," Grandfather replied. "Right up until the moment they kill us. I don't think it will come to that, though. Remember, I saw that you will raise a family right here in this temple."

"But what about you and Father and Mother? And Keiko?"

Father looked...oh, no, he looked _scared._. Haruka had never seen Father frightened of anything.

There was a knock at the door. Haruka jumped.

"Doumeki-sama?"

Haruka sighed in relief. It was Shinobu's mother.

"I just heard on the radio. The Americans dropped a new kind of bomb on the city of Hiroshima this morning. They want us to surrender."

"Surrender." Grandfather shook his head. "I can't see the Emperor and the military surrendering."

"They might," Father said. "If it will save the Imperial family, and if the generals are offered an honorable death."

The news spread from families with radios outward, passing from neighbor to neighbor. "How could the Japanese surrender when everyone is willing to fight, even with pitchforks and staffs?" some people asked. "The Americans will do terrible things to us if we surrender." "We will fight to the last child old enough to stand. Japanese do not surrender."

But then another bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, and the rumors of surrender seemed stronger. Haruka's parents brought him to Shinobu's house–Shinobu was still in the countryside with other schoolchildren–to hear the news on the radio. The Emperor had surrendered, and he spoke on the radio himself. Haruka knew from when he had been at school that the Emperor was divine, almost like the Buddha–but he had a voice like a human being, even though he used a way of speaking that almost didn't sound like real Japanese. Father understood most of what the Emperor was saying, so he explained.

No one wanted to believe the words but it was true. Somehow, in spite of the Emperor's power, the gloriousness of Japan, and all their brave soldiers and pilots and sailors, Japan had lost the war and surrendered. The Emperor even said he wasn't divine, though some people said that wasn't true, the Americans just made him say that. Other people were very angry because he was letting American soldiers come into the country and take it over. Haruka had seen many ghosts and what the terrible fires had done, but he shivered when he heard that. Americans were huge and ugly and terrible, like oni. Anxious as he was, though, Haruka couldn't help wondering if they would bring Western food, and if it would taste better than acorn dumplings with only wild onions in them.

No one was killed, fortunately. The American soldiers weren't nearly as big or ugly as oni. And a few weeks after they arrived, Grandfather and other heads of families were instructed to go to the market square for donations of Western food. He brought back normal food: wheat flour and canned fruit and even rice!

People still didn't have much food of their own, though. When they came to the temple to request a funeral and prayers for death anniversaries they offered household goods instead of food: formal silk kimono, cooking pots, and books. The first book they received was a beautifully bound old volume.

"This is the from my father's day, or perhaps even earlier." Grandfather spoke with awe as he opened it carefully. "It's an old history of the Heian era. Haruka, when you are older, this may help you with your studies."

A few days later a man who was older than Father brought two large, thin books as payment for three funerals. He handed the books to Father, standing right in front of Haruka so he couldn't see.

"What are they about? Haruka asked, standing and trying to peek around the visitor without being impolite. "They're very special books, aren't they?"

Despite Father's dark complexion his cheeks seemed a little red. The older man merely chuckled.

"This one is...certainly, ah, unusual." Father responded, shutting the book quickly and picking up the second one. After a quick look, he shut that one also. He thanked the man, bowing, and picked up the books, asking Haruka to see the man to the gate.

Later, Haruka begged to know more about the books. They weren't anywhere he could find in the house.

Father shook his head. "This is not the time for you to know what is in those books. Perhaps in a few years if Grandfather and I agree you can look at them. Although," Father looked intently at Haruka, "There are some things I should explain to you. You're growing up, and need to know about becoming a man, and about women..."

***

Now that the war was over, there were fewer ghosts for Haruka and his grandfather to find. Some people had nothing to give them in thanks, but Haruka didn't mind. Although the work made him sad, the people who wanted to know about their family members were even sadder, and if they didn't have anything to pay with it meant they had so little for themselves. It was his duty to help them, as a good Buddhist, and as someone with a gift few people had.

Still, Haruka was glad when he stopped seeing ghosts, and could simply enjoy a few moments sitting with Zashiki in the kitchen. He was starting to see some other beings now, and was glad Grandfather had taught him how to ward off the smaller ones with salt or short prayers. He was amused by the kappas, mostly because of their odd appearance, and actively searched for them. One day, though, Haruka got too close to one at the temple pond, and it spotted him. Fortunately he remembered Grandfather's lesson: he bowed politely to the kappa. Just as Grandfather had said, it bowed in return–spilling the water on its head that gave it power to do mischief. After that, it slunk away.

Haruka returned from that adventure to find the family murmuring over the latest funeral payment–a small tin with odd squiggles on it.

"It's Western food, that's for certain."

"I wonder how that young lady came upon it–"

"Best not to ask."

"Do you think it's meat?" That was Mother asking Father, since he knew English.

"I'm not sure. I don't understand the words that would tell me whether it's meat."

Meat? Haruka knew some people ate it, but of course they'd never had it in the temple.

After reading the can carefully several times and looking at the metal key-like object stuck to the top of it, Father succeeded in opening the can. Mother took out the pink loaf and sniffed at it.

"I think it is meat," she said. "I haven't had any since I left my parents' house, but it smells like pork. It's certainly not like any vegetable or fruit I've ever seen. What should we do? We have nothing else to eat except a few herbs from the healing garden."

"And the next shipment of food from Western organizations isn't arriving until next week." Father added. He turned to Grandfather. "Perhaps, Father, we should eat it."

"The Buddha–"

"The Buddha," Father said, looking quickly at Haruka, and at Keiko fussing in Mother's lap, "would understand that we have little food, and hungry growing children."

Grandfather's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Haruka should have some then, and Kanae, since she is not a priest."

The "meat" was good. Mother cut half of the pink loaf into slices, saying, "We'll save the rest in the cold cellar for tomorrow." She cooked it in a pan, and she and Haruka ate every bit, except for a couple of tiny pieces Mother put in Keiko's mouth. They both watched her chew it with her little white teeth, swallow it and grin.

Afterward, Mother opened the kitchen windows wide and washed the pan carefully. Father and Grandfather, who had eaten their dinner on the porch, didn't come in until hours later.

When they finally came in, Haruka asked Grandfather, "Can I still be a priest when I grow up, even if I've eaten meat?"

"I think so, since you're not a priest yet," Grandfather said. "Perhaps we can do a purification ceremony. Jiro, can you review the sacred texts for us?"

"Certainly. Haruka can help me; we should start lessons again, as best we can."

***

The next day, as Mother was preparing a "breakfast" of weak tea, a soldier came to the temple again. Grandfather met him at the front gate, and invited him in. Nakamura-san had scars on his face and left hand, and a large bundle that he placed on the table. After meeting Father and Haruka, he explained the reason for his visit.

"I served with Doumeki Takishima-san in the war, often at his side. We were both injured in the same bomb-blast five months ago. He was badly injured and had lost his identification and his memory. I saw him a few days ago, after his bandages were removed, and I recognized him in spite of the damage he'd taken. I talked with him and that seemed to help restore his memories. Yesterday he remembered this address. He borrowed against the back pay he is owed, and asked me to buy and bring you the best food I could find." Nakamura-san indicated the bundle. "I am honored to carry out his request on his behalf; Doumeki-san is a man of considerable spirit and as pure a soul as one could find on the bat–under the circumstances we endured."

"Thank you very much," Grandfather said, bowing, accompanied by Father and Haruka. "We are all most grateful to you for bringing us this news."

"I am sure you would like to visit him," Nakamura-san went on. "The hospital is several miles away. I have only a bicycle, but I can bring one of you back with me. I know how to ride without using the seat–my brother and I used to do so–and I have enough strength to take another with me."

Grandfather's eyes were bright. They had heard nothing about Uncle Taki in months, until today. "I would like to visit my son as soon as possible."

Father nodded agreement. "And I will visit as soon as I can."

Mother entered the room, bowing and offering cups of weak tea. Grandfather opened the bundle.

"Daughter-in-law, please make us a breakfast. Nakamura-san, please share some tea with us while she prepares it."

Mother took the bag, bowing deeply to Nakamura-san. "Thank you very much," she murmured. Haruka noticed the brief but grateful smile she gave the soldier.

They all had miso soup and rice for breakfast, and simmered kabocha pumpkin with rice for dinner when Grandfather came back with news about Uncle Taki. Uncle still couldn't remember most things about the war, had completely forgotten about Keiko, and thought Uncle Kazuo was still alive. Also, Uncle Taki was now blind in one eye, scarred, and had lost most of the use of his right arm. But he was alive. The family said heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving that night.

***

Haruka wanted to see Uncle Taki, but it simply wasn't possible. All their money had to go for food, not train tickets (Nakamura-san had gone home and none of the neighbors could afford fuel for their cars), They had to start chopping down the healthy trees on the temple grounds for firewood so Mother could cook and they could stay warm on colder fall nights.

School started again, though–with the junior high classes right on their temple grounds. Neighbors who had been teachers taught Haruka and the other seventh graders plus the eighth graders in the largest room. Father taught the ninth graders in the courtyard in good weather, and in the temple itself in bad weather. Father also spent an hour each day teaching the younger students English, knowing it would be useful while the Americans occupied their country.

Haruka still had temple duties in addition to schoolwork. One winter morning he was sweeping the front walk of the temple when two American soldiers came to the gate. The older man, who appeared to be about the same age as Haruka's father, had hair the color of summer grain, with eyes blue as the sky. The other one, a younger man with hair and eyes nearly as dark as a normal person's, bowed and spoke in slow, oddly accented Japanese.

"We have learned a school is taught here. Captain Johansen and I are of the Education Office and wish to observe your classes. May we enter?"

Haruka stammered. The foreigners weren't quite as frightening as he thought, but...was it all right to allow foreigners on temple grounds? Or could they force their way in? He couldn't see any weapons, but the Americans were running all of Japan now.

 _Bow, you idiot,_ he told himself sternly. _Lower than the soldier did. And apologize._ He spoke in Japanese because all the English he'd learned had flown from his mind. "I am sorry...ah...please wait just a moment..."

Fortunately Grandfather rounded the corner of the main building, and came walking quickly, dusting off his hands.

"My grandfather is coming." Haruka added, speaking more evenly now. "He is chief priest of this temple, where our school is."

The dark-haired man spoke to the captain. Haruka was pleased that he recognized the language as English, but he didn't understand a single word. Foreigners spoke so quickly!

 _Ah, Grandfather's here._

"Good morning." Grandfather bowed low. "Welcome to our temple."

"They want to observe classes, Grandfather." Haruka explained as the two men spoke in their quick, pounding English.

"Please be welcome," Grandfather gestured, and and led them into the house.

The students were quieter than usual, and stumbled over answers to the teachers' questions. Then the two soldiers spoke with just the teachers. Haruka tried to hear what they were saying, but Grandfather quietly pulled him away from the door.

At dinner, Father explained that the soldiers had wanted to know each of the teachers' educational and career backgrounds, the plans they had for the rest of the school year, and what they had done during the war.

Two days later, the dark-haired man returned, bringing a report. Father read it to the other teachers. Their classes and books were approved, but they would need to find another ninth-grade teacher. Father was required to end his teaching duties in order to translate and teach for the occupying government.

"I am concerned this will make trouble between us and the other people in the neighborhood," Father said at the dinner table.

"It is not as if they are giving you a choice," Grandfather pointed out. "And they are paying you."

***

The school continued to meet in the temple. Some students didn't come anymore, but after the Americans hired several out-of-work neighbors to rebuild the schools with American-supplied materials, most of their parents sent them back to classes. The soldiers shopped in local stores–mostly to buy kimono and gifts, Shinobu reported. Also, the money Father earned paid for enough food for the four of them, plus coal so a few of the larger trees on the grounds could remain standing. Father also brought home Western food occasionally–not just wheat flour and canned vegetables, but sugar and Haruka's first chocolate bar, which he shared with Keiko.

The old high school was rebuilt to start off the new school year, just after the cherry-blossom festival. A junior high school opened the following fall, so Haruka and Shinobu spent their last year and a half of school in an actual building. Neither of them was going on to high school. Shinobu was going to work in the family store, now that it was getting busier and his mother would be having a baby soon.

"After all these years!" Shinobu scoffed. "You'd think they'd be too old to do that sort of thing anymore."

"She's not the only older mother who's going to have a baby, with all the soldiers back from the war," Haruka pointed out. "I suppose one is not too old to do the marriage act until one is very old."

"I just wish I could _start._ "

"You'll probably start sooner than I will. You can get those things that keep a girl from getting pregnant right in your father's store. _I'm_ going to be in a monastery for a year, as soon as Grandfather arranges it." Haruka made a face. He didn't tell Shinobu–nor was he entirely sure himself–whether he was disgusted about the prospect of the monastic life or about adult relationships. Judging from what Father and Grandfather had told him, both seemed rather daunting.


	2. Adolescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka begins priestly training at home, together with a young Shinto friend of the family. Horses, archery, and Haruka's first romance ensue.  
> This chapter contains a brief but possibly disturbing description (if you're very sensitive and a horse fan, you might not want to read this) and explicit consensual manual sex.

Haruka wasn't going straight into a Buddhist monastery, after all. Soon after his junior-high graduation, Grandfather received a letter from an old friend of his who was a Shinto priest out in the country. As Grandfather explained at dinner that night, Kobayashi-sama had a grandson only a year older than Haruka who was training for the priesthood. He wanted Masahiro-kun to learn about Buddhism, and perhaps experience a bit of city life as well.  
"City life?" Haruka scoffed. "Doesn't he know we're on the outer edge of Tokyo? The train only stops here twice a day."

"The Kobayashi shrine is partway up a mountain, where nearly everyone is a rice farmer. This _is_ the city to my friend and his family. Besides, I suppose you boys wouldn't mind running an errand or two for me in the city itself."

Haruka grinned. He was always ready for adventure.

"Now let me finish telling everyone about the letter."

Grandfather went on to explain that his friend, knowing that Grandfather valued Shinto practices, as he valued Buddhist ones, suggested that Masahiro-kun might spend a year in the Doumeki temple to learn about Buddhism, and then Haruka would spend a year at the Kobayashi shrine, learning about Shinto and the countryside. And Kobayashi-sama mentioned he was also sending a special gift: a horse.

"Who will care for the horse?" Mother asked. "We are all so busy here."

"I will!" Haruka didn't even have to think before answering.

"You'll have to get up as early as I do," Mother warned. She usually had to rout Haruka out of bed in the morning.

"I think he'll do it." Grandfather's eyes crinkled as he beamed at his grandson in shared enthusiasm. "And I'll have both boys help you as well as us," he assured his daughter-in law.

***

Kobayashi Masahiro arrived the week before school began, riding one horse and leading another. He was shorter than Haruka but broader in the shoulders and chest, and his thick hair stood out nearly straight in a few places.

Haruka was the first after Grandfather to greet Kobayashi-kun. "I'm Doumeki Haruka. How was your journey?"

"Exciting!" Kobayashi-kun exclaimed. "I saw a train, and had to hold Kaze back because she wanted to race it. But she couldn't, tethered to Nokori."

Haruka helped remove Nokori's saddlebags, sneaking in a pat on the horse's brown-dappled flank at the same time.

As soon as the last bag hit the ground, Kobayashi-kun bowed formally to Grandfather. "Thank you very much for welcoming me into your home. Before I enter, however, I must bring Kaze and Nokori to your stable to groom and water them."

Grandfather gave Kobayashi-kun an approving smile. "Of course. Haruka, please fetch water from the well for Kaze and Nokori to drink. And for Kobayashi-kun also."

Haruka hauled the water buckets into the stable he and Grandfather had been cleaning and preparing for the past three days. Both horses were already in their stalls, and Kobayashi-kun was busy wiping down Kaze with an old feedsack.

"I've brought the water, Kobayashi-kun. Would you like to take yours first?"

"No; please water the horses. I'll get mine from their trough when I'm done."

Haruka started pouring out the buckets. "The horses are beautiful. How old are they?"

"Kaze—she's my horse—is four years old and has had two foals. Nokori is one of them, and is just over a year old." Kobayashi-kun's head was bowed over the cloth he was using. "Nokori will be your horse now."

"They're both beautiful. May I wipe down Nokori? I'll need to learn as I'll be taking care of her. We haven't had horses since I was very young, so I never learned to groom them."

"Certainly." Kobayashi-kun handed over a second feedsack.

Haruka had been watching Kobayashi-kun closely, and echoed his motions as he began wiping down Nokori.

"I suppose you have many horses back at home," Haruka offered.

"No; these are—were—our only two." The other boy kept his head bowed as he wiped down Kaze's belly.

"But, Grandfather said your family raised horses as well as being priests."

"We used to," Kobayashi answered shortly.

Haruka pondered his companion's change in mood. _No matter; I'm going to continue to be friendly,_ he thought. "You had to sell the others, then?"

Kobayashi-kun shook his head. "Eat them."

Haruka's mouth dropped open. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I'm very sorry."

"Kaze and Nokori are the last," Kobayashi-kun explained, still facing away from Haruka. "Nokori was born only last spring, while we still had some meat from Na—" he broke off, and turned to scoop some water out of the horse's trough with his hands. After drinking slowly, he started again. "Kaze was the most sure-footed, for traveling on the mountain where we live," Kobayashi-kun stroked Kaze's mane, "and since she's female Grandfather planned to use her as a brood mare to restart our herd. But no one seems to have enough money to buy a horse, except people who would rather have an automobile."

"I don't know why anyone would want an automobile when they could have a horse."

Kobayashi-kun turned to Haruka, smiling a little. "I don't know why either." He reached into the saddlebag he'd brought to the stable and pulled out two currying combs, handing one to Haruka. "This is for you to use. I'll show you how to groom a horse, Doumeki-kun. Start at the top of Nokori's head, like this."

Haruka got busy with the comb. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he asked, "Kobayashi-kun?"

"Yes?"

"We're going to be spending an entire year in the same household. Perhaps we could use each other's first names?"

"Of course...Haruka-kun. Or shall I just call you Haruka? I don't mind if you call me Masahiro."

Haruka grinned. "Thank you...Masahiro."

***

Grandfather started them on lessons the next day. They discussed various points of Buddhism, with Haruka explaining anything Masahiro did not understand. Grandfather corrected him when it was necessary, which wasn't often, Haruka was relieved and pleased to discover. Masahiro also observed when they took care of temple duties, helping with practical matters such as cleaning and carrying. Handling dead bodies didn't seem to trouble him at all.

Apparently, Grandfather felt manual labor was important in training young men for the priesthood. He directed them in tending the herb garden, mowing the grass (the horses helped with this, as well as providing plenty of material for next year's fertilizer), and making building repairs that had been neglected when the family had not had the money or energy to take care of them. Masahiro turned out to know more than Grandfather did about carpentry.

"We don't have carpenters in our village, so we've learned to do most repair work on our own." he explained. He also promised to teach Haruka to carve during the coming winter. "There's not much to do up in the mountains during the winter, so we carve or do leatherwork. My father," Masahiro paused a moment, and Haruka recalled that Mashiro's father had been killed during the war, "made the saddlebags I brought here."

Uncle Taki was well enough to return home by the end of the summer, and brought out his battered landscaping book. Soon he was teaching both young men principles of landscape design as he planned to restore the areas where trees had been cut down and the grounds had otherwise fallen into disrepair.  
Not all the physical work was drudgery. Masahiro taught Haruka to ride on Nokori, and to shoot a bow. He'd brought three bows with him. "Grandfather will want to teach you yabusame next year," he said.

"Mounted archery?" Haruka's face lit with enthusiasm. "I've read about that in one of the books someone gave us."

"People give you books?"

"As thanks for doing funerals and other services. Most people didn't have money or food to give the temple—some still don't. We have eighteen books and two scrolls, not counting the temple sutras and other Buddhist texts that we already had. I want to buy more when we have the money."

"You must be very interested in books." Masahiro frowned, inspecting his bowstring closely.

"I have learned so much from them, and I haven't read even half the books we have received so far. History, poetry, science, and," Haruka lowered his voice, as Keiko was due back from school and loved to eavesdrop, "two books about...intimate things."

"No!" Masahiro looked up eagerly.

"I've only seen a few pages of each of them. Grandfather mentioned he wanted me to read through them, but Father thinks I'm too young and will become inappropriately interested, so he keeps them hidden. I haven't been able to find them yet."

"What does your father mean by 'inappropriate'?"

"He gave me an hour's lecture on that subject!" Haruka ran a hand through his hair, cropped short for the summer. "Too much thinking about doing the marital act and, ah, other means of, ah, pleasure; looking at someone and imagining doing such things. Haruka slipped into an imitation of Father in teaching mode. 'Avoid lingering on unchaste thoughts; simply let them pass out of your mind as quickly as they enter. Dwelling on such thoughts is a barrier to maintaining a serene mind.'"

"It's hard to keep a serene mind all the time." Masahiro pointed out. "Especially when you see someone you're attracted to, or spend time with that person."

Just then Haruka heard the soft but familiar swish and thump of his father making his way toward them. He instructed both young men to sit in the temple and practice Zen meditation for an hour. Haruka was sure Father had heard the end of their conversation and wanted to make sure they cultivated a serene mind as soon as possible.  
A Zen mind was excellent for developing archery skills, though, Haruka realized. He soon realized that the best method for shooting was to clear his mind of everything except the bow, the arrow, and the target, and let go. At first he'd needed Masahiro's guidance with every shot. The older boy often set his hands on Haruka's hips to turn him to the proper angle, and adjusted his fingers on the bow. Haruka wasn't accustomed to physical contact, especially from someone his own age, but he felt comfortable with Masahiro and found his touch as pleasant as Nokori seemed to find his grooming and patting. After a few months he didn't need such guidance, and by winter he was hitting the large target he'd helped Masahiro set up at the edge of the temple grounds. Haruka was still not nearly as skilled Masahiro, whom he watched avidly during his turn shooting.

"It will take me another ten years to be as skilled as you are now," he acknowledged.

"At least," Masahiro agreed smugly. "I received my first bow the day of my first shichi-go-san ceremony.

Haruka stared at him. "You were three years old! I'm sure you put the bow in your mouth."

"I did not! I'd seen Grandfather, Father and Elder Brother doing kyuudo so I knew what it was. It was only a toy bow, though, and the arrows didn't have any points. I couldn't actually hit anything until I was nearly five."

Haruka was catching up faster with horseback riding. He and Masahiro escaped on the horses as often as they could get away—usually only once or twice a week. Grandfather, Father and Uncle all seemed to be conspiring to keep them busy, and Grandfather often took Nokori to visit friends or parishioners in the afternoons or evenings. Masahiro showed no interest in riding alone, so if they were free at those times they focused on kyuudo.

***

Spring arrived and with it, more landscaping work. One unseasonably hot day Grandfather set the two of them to dredging the pond. Mother had gone into the city with Father and Uncle Taki for shopping and doctor's appointments, and Keiko was in school.

Grandfather came out to observe. "Good, very good. Now all you need to do is spread all that mud in the back garden to dry out a bit. Tomorrow you can mix it with the soil for planting. I'm going to visit some parishioners who are ill—and have wives who are good cooks." Grinning, he left them and headed toward the horse barn.  
It seemed to take forever, but Haruka and Masahiro finally pulled up the last of the muck from the bottom of the pond.

"Aah! I am so hot!" Masahiro sighed. He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, leaving a shiny greenish-brown streak.

"And so muddy!" Haruka laughed.

"You're even muddier from that fall you took. You're so clumsy!"

"I'm clumsy? You nearly fell into the pond twice!" Haruka playfully shoved Masahiro so his feet slipped in a patch of pond scum.

Masahiro grabbed Haruka's sleeve to steady himself—or perhaps to pull Haruka into the mud—and Haruka grabbed back.

 _Might be fun to wrestle,_ Haruka thought.

But Masahiro shook himself away and bent to pick up two of the muck-filled buckets.

"Let's get these over to the back garden. Then I want a bath."

After hooking the buckets onto yokes, they hauled the buckets to the dumping area. Then they fetched clean buckets, stopped by the well, and stumbled into the bath-house, a bucket in each hand for washing off before entering the bath.

"Sometimes I wish we had plumbing to do this for us," Haruka complained as they set down their buckets.

"Lazy!" Masahiro flicked water at Haruka. "You city brats are soft."

"This is hardly the center of Tokyo, country boy." Haruka tossed his fundoshi in the corner with the other muddy clothes. Mother was not going to be happy about the laundry this week.

"Mud right down to the last layer." Masahiro commented. "We'll have to clean it off our balls."

Haruka choked slightly.

"You've been too well brought up, Haruka. My brother and I say much ruder things at home." Masahiro grinned at Haruka from his washing-up stool, wiping a streak of soaked-through mud off his bare thigh.

 _Thwack!_ Haruka's cleaning-cloth hit Masahiro in the chest. They stared at each other a moment. Then Masahiro laughed. "If only your aim were that good with the bow." He tossed back the cloth and stood to clean his backside.

Haruka kept staring. What was so fascinating? They both had the same body parts, though Masahiro was a bit more muscular and had more body hair. And they'd bathed together many times before, though most recently he had felt oddly awkward. And now the strangest feeling was twisting in his belly....

"Ready to go in, Haruka?" Masahiro asked. His voice was quiet with a sort of compulsion that had an embarrassing effect on Haruka. Now he definitely was not ready to go into the bath with Masahiro, at least not without getting a certain part of his body under control. Haruka turned his back abruptly and dunked his cloth into the bucket, doing his best to cultivate a calm, pure mind in hopes his body would follow.

"Haruka, are you all right?" He felt Masahiro's hand on his shoulder.

"Ma—" His voice cracked. Damn adolescence anyway. And now he couldn't stop thinking about things from one of those two books Father kept, the one that had nothing to do with the marital act, or with women at all.

"Ah."

Damn, Masahiro was gazing down at him—down _there._

"Would you like to do something about that?" Masahiro was using that voice again, and it sent fire running through Haruka's body like a cupful of sake. "I'd like to, if you want it too. I like you very much, Haruka."

Haruka squeezed his eyes shut, realizing why he felt so awkward—and so aroused. His attraction to Masahiro had been at the edge of his thoughts for weeks, perhaps, but hadn't become clear to him until now.

"I...I like you very much also. And I want to do something about, ah,” he looked down and then quickly up at Masahiro's eager expression.“this..." he gestured. _But what do we do? And how much does Masahiro know about such things?_

"I know of two things we could do." Masahiro responded to his unasked question. "The one, ah, could be uncomfortable for one of us, and I'm not very sure how to do it. But we could touch each other."

Masahiro leaned closer, resting a hand on Haruka's thigh. Haruka gazed at him this time without embarrrasment: the hopeful smile on Masahiro's perfectly oval face, his broad shoulders and chest, and his firm thighs with an impressive erection jutting out between them.

"Yes," Haruka breathed.

Masahiro reached out and touched the back of his neck, raising the tiny hairs there and making Haruka shiver. His other hand slid across the top of Haruka's thigh and curled around his erection.

Haruka nearly bit through his lip.

Masahiro's hand pumped slowly at first, then sped up as Haruka rose slightly on his knees and thrust in response. The two of them leaned against each other, balancing awkwardly for the minute it took for Haruka to reach orgasm. Masahiro caught him in his arms as he nearly fell.

"Ahh, there." No one had held Haruka in years. This embrace in the aftermath of his first sexual pleasure with another person was unlike anything else, as thoroughly, warmly satisfying as a fire in midwinter.

"Masahiro." He put his arms about his friend—his lover?—and took a deep breath. "Now, your turn?"

"Yes; please. You can keep rubbing my back like that for a little while first; I like it." Masahiro smiled. "Your hands feel so good."

Haruka ran his hands up and down Masahiro's firm back, still slick from washing, then around Masahiro's hips and onto his thighs. He was fascinated with those thighs, nicely muscled and with fine dark hairs lightly scattered across warm skin.

Masahiro's breathing was as rapid as if he'd been running.

 _He seems more than ready, let me do what he just did...._

It was so different from touching himself. He didn't receive any direct sensation but took a surprising amount of pleasure in feeling Masahiro's very hard organ in his hand, hearing his rough breathing, and catching the scent coming off his skin, a rich scent like that of a freshly-groomed horse.

Masahiro took a bit longer than Haruka had. He leaned in close, hands braced just above Haruka's knees for balance. Masahiro began thrusting uncontrollably.

"Yes," Haruka whispered. Then it happened, warmth spilling over Haruka's hand as Masahiro gasped, his head dropping onto Haruka's shoulder.

They were both pretty sticky now with semen and sweat. Haruka suggested they wash each other off, which led to another round of mutual pleasure. After that they agreed to each clean themselves. That was a wise choice, because they were still washing when they heard footsteps followed by the door opening.

"You've finished, I see." Grandfather said, eyes crinkling.

He seemed a little too amused to be referring only to the pond-dredging. _How does he know? We'd washed it all off by the time he came in,hadn't we?_

"And you have all the water buckets. Is there enough water left for me to wash up while you enjoy your bath?"

There wasn't, so Grandfather made Haruka run out wearing only a towel to get another bucketful.  
The next morning at the start of lessons, Grandfather handed over both the erotic manuals.  
"You'll want to know about all of this, for yourselves, your future wives, and possibly for assisting your parishioners." He grinned at their expressions. "Yes, people will come to you with questions about their private lives. Erotic skills can smooth over many marital troubles, especially if a couple hasn't been properly educated in that aspect of married life. Also, some people find themselves in situations that make certain positions difficult and others more desirable, such as a difference in size, fertility difficulties, or infirmities."

Haruka felt like squirming at the veiled reference to his own father. No wonder Father had kept the books—or had Grandfather already given him advice?

"As for this one," He held up the book Haruka desperately wanted to share with Masahiro, especially now, "some men find other men more appealing than women. Some women have the same sort of interest, but I have been unable to find a book for them, only a few instructions in books on varieties of erotic practices." Grandfather sighed. "Western morality has had an unfortunate influence over the last hundred years, and many people with such inclinations suffer from guilt."

"According to the teachings we follow and pass on—as your family does, Masahiro-kun—there is no sin in such activities, as long as one does one's duty to continue the family line, and does not create a scandal. Unfortunately, many other Buddhist sects, and many Shinto believers, are more in agreement with the Westerners." Grandfather made a face as if he'd just eaten sour tofu. "Over my lifetime, their influence is spreading. I want to ensure that you boys will do what you can to counteract such beliefs. Sexuality is to be enjoyed, as long as it does not involve adultery, an undesirable pregnancy, passing on a disease, or other harm or scandal. Even courtesans have their rightful place, as long as one is discreet and is careful not to pick up a disease. It is a way for women in difficult situations to make a comfortable living, and to provide satisfaction for unmarried men and widowers who have such a need." The corners of Grandfather's mouth turned up slightly.

 _I wonder if that explains some of Grandfather's evening "visits."_ Haruka carefully did not look at either Grandfather or Masahiro.

"What about widowed ladies?" Masahiro asked.

"They must be careful not to conceive a child. There are many ways to do that, and I shall teach both of you."

"There's a modern way," Haruka put in. "Shinobu's father keeps some of the items in the back of the store. They cover the male organ so the seed can't get into the woman's body."

"I am familiar with those items."

 _Damn. Grandfather knows everything._

***

Haruka and Masahiro excused themselves soon after dinner that night to study. As soon as they shut the door of Haruka's room, Masahiro brought out the book from his sleeve.

They skipped the introduction and moved directly to the illustration at the start of the first chapter. It showed all the sensitive spots on the male anatomy and described ways to stimulate them for pleasure.

"Riiight there," Masahiro murmured, drawing a fingertip down the back of Haruka's neck.

Haruka shivered. "You touched me there yesterday afternoon and it had the same effect. Did you know?"

"Of course, didn't you? Or did your father forbid you to read love poetry?"

"No, he's not _that_ strict. But this book is much more educational than any poem. Where is the next location? Ah, there." He reached for Masahiro.

***

Haruka and Masahiro's time together at the Doumeki temple was approaching an end. They were both grateful they would have another year together, this time with Masahiro's family. One evening at dinner, Grandfather asked Masahiro what his grandfather would most like as a gift.

"A radio. He wants to learn about modern events. Also, my mother and brother are both fond of modern music, and we have heard the radio has many music programs."

"Most families have a radio these days," Mother commented.

"We don't." Haruka pointed out. He noticed Father looking at Mother, and then at Grandfather. Apparently that was a matter they had argued over privately.

"We have enough money from my work with the Americans to buy an excellent, sturdy radio, one that will survive the trip out to the shrine and be a suitable gift," Father said. "And we will still have enough left for a smaller radio for our home."

Grandfather cleared his throat. "And what about this winter's coal? And cooking fuel?"

Uncle Taki broke in. "I received my first installment of back pay from the Army this afternoon. More will be coming over the next several months."

Grandfather grumbled something about sons and modern ways, but Haruka could tell he didn't mind so much.

Other matters had to be arranged. Grandfather gave permission for Haruka to ride Nokori to the shrine, and to keep her there for a year. "I understand Kobayashi-san wishes you to learn yabusame, so you must have a horse. I can manage for a year without her, while you are up in the mountains learning and working. I trust you to bring honor to the Doumeki name in your learning and your conduct."

"I will, Grandfather."

"And enjoy yourself too, Haruka. I don't think that will be too difficult."

***

It wasn't. Kobayashi-ojiisan knew as much folklore as Grandfather—many of them stories Grandfather didn't know— and his storytelling, though different in style, was just as entertaining and enlightening. Both young men worked as hard as they had at the Doumeki temple, riding around the countryside to repair and maintain the small roadside shrines as well as helping at the main shrine. They played just as hard too—yabusame in the summer and fall, horseback riding and playing in the snow in the winter, as well as their activities at night in the small room they shared.

Too soon spring came round again and Haruka had to return home, alone. "I'll be back in the fall, on my way to the Buddhist monastery for my year there," he promised.

"And I'll visit when I come to the city," Masahiro smiled.

They parted regretfully, but knew that their duties would keep them from being together always. Their relationship gently faded into affectionate letters, kindled by occasional (and, when possible, passionate) meetings, and was a hidden yet valuable foundation for both men as they began their adult lives.


	3. Young Adulthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka returns from his time at the Buddhist monastery and settles into the priesthood and adult life, including the search for a wife.

When Haruka returned home from the monastery, having reached his full height and acquired a headful of Buddhist wisdom, not the least of which was how to truly empty his mind and sit for two hours without his butt falling asleep, he decided to renew his friendship with Shinobu over a glass of sake at one of the local bars.

"I can't stay too late," Shinobu began as Haruka poured out the first glass. "My fiancee and her family are coming to visit tomorrow."

"What??"

"I'm getting married in the fall. We met this spring at the sakura festival, and it turned out the matchmaker my mother was speaking with had already chosen her as a possible bride for me."

Haruka was speechless. "But, you're so young!"

"I've been working, and meeting women, a couple of the sort a matchmaker would not be suggesting," Shinobu grinned behind his hand," while you have been wrapped up in your priestly training."

Shinobu downed his sake and went on to tell tales concerning some of those unsuitable women. Haruka found the stories alternately annoying and fascinating. He soon concluded that Shinobu would not be comfortable hearing about his own experiences with Masahiro, or certain clandestine meetings with another young man at the monastery, so he mostly kept quiet.

After the third cup of sake, Shinobu brought out a small picture and his expression changed from greedy to abashed. "But this is the one I'll make my home with. Not bad, eh?"

She was rather pretty, and had a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. Haruka thought they would get along well, and said so.

"I think so also. And Mother likes her too, which is important. They will be sharing a kitchen after all, and you know how women are."

But Haruka didn't. This was something he needed to learn, like smoking a cigarette. Shinobu offered him one that night and he tried it, admiring the scent of the smoke and the way it curled about in a sophisticated manner, although it burned his throat. Once he began pursuing women, he felt just as ambivalent. His first attempt at the modern concept of 'dating' began with a conversation with an unmarried young lady at Shinobu's wedding. It quickly ended when she refused his invitation for a cup of tea.

"I only drink hard liquor. And I'd never date a man who wears old-fashioned rags like that," she added, contemptuously eyeing Haruka's hand-sewn formal kimono.

Soon afterward, he realozed why the daughter of one of Mother's friends always accompanied her mother on visits. Anzu was attractive and polite, so he asked her to accompany him to the new cinema in their neighborhood. She chattered too much, though--and said little that was actually worth hearing.

***

Haruka didn't spend much time with young women though. He was absorbed in work at the temple: not just assisting with services and the occasional exorcism but keeping up the landscaping and herb garden, improving his skills with a yabusame organization, and building his book collection. He even cleaned out and refurbished an old storehouse to hold his growing library. Everyone wanted modern items, so old books were cheap.

He grew even busier once Uncle Taki announced his intention to become a monk.

"I was only waiting for you to return," he explained to Haruka. "I have many sins to expiate from what I did during the war."

"But that wasn't your fault! You were conscripted."

"Nonetheless, I killed and injured people. Also, I find myself drawn to a more contemplative life than I am able to have here."

Uncle Taki had often been sought out by fellow war veterans struggling with their injuries, both physical and spiritual. "Several of them have told me I am as wise as a monk; not true, but something I realize I aspire to. And I leave the temple in good order--the landscaping is restored, thanks to you and Kobayashi-kun; we have all we could ask for in the way of donations; and there are three fine priests to care for the temple and parishioners. So with the blessings of Father and Jiro, I will be leaving soon."

***

Father didn't seem to notice that Haruka's friends were all marrying, but Grandfather and Mother began making comments about "carrying on the family" and "missing the voices of children in the house." After a couple of years, Mother began inviting women friends to bring their daughters and nieces to their mahjong games, and asking certain young women to stay for dinner. Haruka found them to be either frivolous chatterers, frighteningly modern women with their breasts jutting nearly through their tailored Western-style dresses, or timid slips of girls who blushed and hid their faces every time he looked in their direction.

Mother even began dropping hints about Imawari-san, the most successful matchmaker in the neighborhood. "She's found wives for most of your classmates, and some younger people as well. She's even started to ask me if Keiko is considering marriage yet."

"Keiko? She's still a kid!"

"I've graduated high school, dummy," his sister retorted, poking her head in the room. "You were at the ceremony, remember? And I've learned how to cook most of the dishes Mother can make already."

"Don't speak to your brother like that," Mother scolded. "Be more respectful, Keiko, or you might have trouble finding a husband."

"I may, but _I_ shall choose him! Keiko insisted. "I'm not going to let some granny matchmaker find a man for me." She fled another warning from Mother, her full Western-style skirt spinning as she left the room.

"Perhaps in the summer, Mother?" Haruka asked. "I'm busy now with the western garden and the pond."

"But it's spring, when young men and women think of romance."

"You told me yourself that romance had little to do with making a good match."

"Little, but it still has some. And with a good match, love grows as you grow older."

Haruka could believe that. When he was up late reading, he could sometimes hear the muffled yet unmistakable noises from his parents' room. And the soft glances Mother sometimes gave Father when she thought no one was looking expressed more than dutiful affection. Perhaps marriage wouldn't be so bad.

Certainly women had their physical appeal. Uncle Taki had asked to Haruka to visit a certain parishioner occasionally--a widow whose only child had married and moved away shortly after Uncle Taki had left. The first visit was mostly out of duty, though Haruka enjoyed conversing with Fuda-san. At the second visit, Fuda-san wore a mulberry-colored kimono that set off her fair skin and offered him a glass of sake. Soon thereafter, she began talking about loneliness, and how even friends and spiritual comfort could not provide all that a woman longed for. Her hand, somewhat work-worn but beautifully formed, lay near his. It was a matter of moments before their hands joined and she led Haruka into the next room.

They enjoyed a few more afternoons together, until the day Fuda-san mentioned Haruka's uncle with a certain affectionate warmth in her voice. Haruka's eyes widened briefly in alarm, and he ended his visit as soon as he politely could manage. For the next few days he battled with speculations on how his performance compared to his uncle's in Fuda-san's mind. Still, he wished he could find someone of Fuda-san's intelligence and kindness, though closer to his own age.

***

A few nights later, Haruka awoke from a sound sleep to find himself sitting in the kitchen. Zashiki wasn't there, but a woman about his own age smiled sadly and reached out to him.

"You are," her brow furrowed slightly, "Jiro's son, are you not? Or perhaps Taki's?"

"I am Jiro's son, Haruka," he answered. _Was this woman a relative come in at an odd hour of the night?_

"Please tell your grandfather I forgive him."

 _Forgive Grandfather?_

"I hope he will forgive me, too, for my faults as a wife. Also, please tell him that our Kazuo is my son in this life, and our family is happy and prosperous."

"I will..." _Why does this woman look so familiar?_

"And let my Jiro and little Takishima know that I love them very much, and I'm sorry I had to leave them so soon."

Haruka shook his head. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, in his own bed. He rose and slipped out to the main room. Turning on the light, he strode to the far end of the room, removed a photograph, and held it close to the light. There was a younger version of the woman from his dreams, in his grandparents' wedding portrait.

Grandmother had died soon after Uncle Taki was born, a victim of the disease that had left Haruka's father crippled. For some reason, she needed to let him know--no, to let his grandfather know--that he was forgiven. For what? And why now?

The next morning, Haruka ask Grandfather if they could speak in private. They went for a walk outside, enjoying the sight of Nokori nipping the grass in the early summer sunlight. Haruka told Grandfather about the dream.

"Ahh, Shizuka..." Grandfather sighed, eyes downcast. "We could have been better matched. No one's fault; neither the matchmaker nor anyone in my family or hers was aware our personalities simply wouldn't fit. I should not be surprised that Shizuka sends this message now. She has been in my mind much lately."

"You..." Haruka couldn't think of a way to ask his grandfather just what had been wrong.

"Our families had similar backgrounds, our horoscopes were compatible, and we were both reasonably attractive," Grandfather smiled wryly. "Everyone thought that would be enough. But I thought 'up,' she thought 'down.' I loved conversation, she preferred quiet. We had nothing in common other than to eat, sleep and raise a family."  
Grandfather shook his head and turned to face Haruka squarely. "We must ensure that you and Keiko are well matched for temperaments and interests with your intended spouses before you marry. I want to see you both as contented as your parents are. Not that Jiro and Kanae have never had an argument, but, hah, they always resolve things one way or another without lasting anger or resentment. They even have worked together to convince your old grandfather once or twice."

"With the radio."

"Yes, with the radio. And with allowing your sister to go on to high school. Although that one I let them win easily; she is their child and not mine, after all. And your sister loves higher learning and the modern world, as your father does. You, like me, are more old-fashioned, although you do prefer those cigarettes to a good old-fashioned pipe such as the one your grandmother smoked."

"Grandmother smoked a pipe?"

"She did!" Now Grandfather was grinning. "Shizuka could blow smoke rings that were the envy of the entire neighborhood. Not often--she smoked opium, not tobacco, and needed a clear head to manage the household--but she did enjoy it. Her hair smelled of it at night when she'd been smoking." Grandfather's eyes shut briefly. "She had the most beautiful hair--thick, and a little coarse, like Keiko's, but so lovely to stroke...." Grandfather shook his head. "I could have tried harder to understand her, I suppose."

"She did say she hoped you forgave her too."

Grandfather smiled sadly, much like Grandmother had in the dream. "I do, now. I think we've both learned wisdom in the decades since she went on to her next life."

***

Haruka was more reluctant than ever to pursue marriage, although Grandfather assured him he would offer all assistance in making a successful match. Besides, Haruka had received a letter from Masahiro promising a visit. He'd missed his old lover, and hoped to renew all aspects of their relationship while they were together. Masahiro had written only briefly--that he had some shopping to do in the city, and Haruka's neighborhood was as good as any. The Doumeki temple was no longer on the outskirts of Tokyo. The train station was linked to the city subway system now, and the neighborhood included two department stores.

"Time to buy new formal kimono." Masahiro grinned as Haruka greeted him at the station. "Mother was never good enough with a needle or even a sewing machine to make anything but work clothes, and now that she's set up an omiai meeting for me....Steady, old friend." Masahiro took Haruka's arm as he stumbled over a brick. "It's high time I marry. Mother says I've put it off too long, and she wants to see my children."

"Everyone is encouraging me to marry too," Haruka sighed. "Grandfather says he would like to attend my marriage as a human and not as a ghost."

"He has a point. Since I must marry anyway, I wish I'd done so before my grandfather passed on. And you do want children to follow you, don't you? I need to have daughters as well as sons. My brother has two boys to carry on, but my elders sister's married and little Sen has her eye on a young man from the local noodle shop, so we'll be without a miko soon."

"Oh, I want children also, especially since I'm the only grandson." Haruka agreed. "And a wife, a good one." He added in a whisper, "I wouldn't mind enjoying sex on a regular basis."

"There I agree with you." Masahiro grinned. He whispered back, "Unfortunately, I must be home by evening, so we can't help each other in that regard today. A pity, because you are the finest lover I've known so far. If your skills are as good with a woman your wife will be most fortunate."

Oddly enough for the morning hour, no one was near them on the street, so Haruka felt comfortable confiding in Masahiro at that moment. "I have had some experience, and heard no complaints. To the contrary, the lady seemed quite pleased. A pity I realized that she'd been...ah, well, I shouldn't reveal why I ended it, but it wasn't for lack of enjoyment."

Masahiro grinned, leaning toward Haruka and clapping him on the shoulder. "You sly dog, you never hinted at such a thing in your letters!"

"I wasn't about to write such a thing in case your mother or one of your sisters found the letter. Also, Keiko is gifted at prying out secrets of any kind that aren't kept inside one's head. She even found the erotic manual Father's been keeping, and I still don't know where he hides it!"

"She'll be a well-prepared wife then. But tell me, what skills did you learn that might aid me?"

Haruka spied a pair of women approaching and drew Masahiro's attention in their direction.

One of the women, about their age, glanced their way and then turned to her companion, giggling.

"I think she was admiring you," Masahiro commented once the women had passed by. "I can't believe you haven't been able to find an agreeable woman on your own."

"I seem to have ill fortune with women. Perhaps I should invite one to the house, where Zashiki Warashi might be able to assist in changing my luck."

"You can still see her, then?"

"Yes, as well as many other spirits. I've had to exorcise a few strong ones who were menacing parishioners. Thank goodness both our grandfathers taught us the traditional methods. Many Buddhists don't believe in the supernatural any longer, including a couple of priests I have met."

"I've dealt with a powerful youkai myself, one that nearly took my life. Thank goodness I had my bow with me."

Masahiro related the story as they approached the shrine, where Keiko had prepared a special lunch for them.

That evening Haruka told his family he was ready to meet with a matchmaker.

***

Two days later, Haruka accompanied his parents and grandfather to Imawari-san's house for an interview. Keiko objected to being left out, to which Mother replied, "I thought you were a modern woman, who didn't approve of such things."

"But I want to help find Haruka-nii a good wife! None of you know about young women in these times."

"I know that you were most disappointed that Masahiro-kun did not say anything to you other than to compliment you on your cooking." Mother had retorted.

Haruka put that ridiculous idea--his sister thinking _she_ could charm Masahiro!--out of his mind as they greeted Imawari-san.

"Ahh, welcome, welcome," She drew them all into the main room, where a simple tea was set out. After conversation about the summer heat and plans for a local festival, she asked what they were looking for in Haruka's prospective bride.

"A good cook," Haruka instantly responded, not even allowing his parents to begin. Nonetheless, they nodded approvingly.

"And a good housekeeper," his mother added.

"She must be from a Buddhist family, of course." Father insisted. "A family that is also Shinto would be good." Mother's family had been both. "They should be willing--no, delighted--to have their daughter marry into a priestly family. Oh, and the girl must not spend too much money on clothes."

"I'm glad to see you remember that," Grandfather put in, adding for Imawari-san's benefit, "I'd brought that up at his interview."

Haruka glanced quickly at his mother's face. Nothing showed in her expression, at least not to a casual observer.

"Thrifty, but not afraid to spend money on things of good quality." Mother added. "One fine bowl or obi is better than half a dozen cheap ones," Mother brushed a bit of ash off the sleeve of Haruka's elegant dark-green haori. "Also, she should be able to tolerate tobacco smoke." She had insisted that Haruka put out his cigarette before entering Imawari-san's home.

"And her appearance?" Imawari-san asked Haruka. "A slim and delicate young lady?"

“No...not delicate." He was afraid he might hurt a delicate woman during the marriage act. Masahiro and Fudo-san both had been quite sturdy.

"Ah, good." Imawari-san nodded. "Many young men are looking for a fragile flower, so you will have more of a choice."

Mother nodded approval as well. "Health and a substantial figure are important. She should be able to bear children easily."

 _I hope this is over soon._ Haruka thought. _It's a bit embarrassing._

"Is there anything else you would like to add?" Imawari-san asked.

There was. How could Haruka forget such an important thing? "I...she must be a good conversationalist. I don't want to be bored every evening with either mindless chatter or silence."

Grandfather and Imawari-san both laughed as Haruka fought a desire to slink under the table.

"Very true." Grandfather grinned hugely. "One cannot spend all one's evenings--"

Mother cut him off with a glance, but Imawari-san's small mouth still quirked upward like a drawn bow. And she was looking sidelong at Grandfather.

"You are a wise man," she assured Haruka. "You and your wife will spend many hours together and do not want to be bored with each other's company."

***

"I don't understand why none of the women have liked me." Haruka complained as he sat at the table with his parents after a third negative message from Imawari-san. "Why won't any family even meet with us? I'm not bad-looking, and I'm smiling in the photograph you gave her. Women like a cheerful man, don't they? Our family's not so large that we would overwhelm her, and she would have this huge temple to live in."

"That might be the problem." Haruka's mother replied. "Perhaps we are too old-fashioned for them. Young ladies these days want a modern home.

"But we're modern! We have an indoor toilet!" Haruka's father pointed out.

Keiko nearly choked on a bite of daikon pickle.

"A young woman these days also wants independence, and not to be tied to keeping a huge temple clean." Mother insisted.

Haruka thought he should have something to say: "Tell the omiai that my wife can go out on her own if she wants to. I won't even complain if she has friends over to play mah jong, as long as they are quiet and are finished in time for her to make supper."

His parents were both deafeningly silent. Too late, Haruka recalled how his father had complained about his mother's friends being too loud during their game last week. The vegetables had been unusually bland that night, and Mother had forgotten to set out any sake.

"Perhaps I won't complain about the noise." he amended. "I can go outside and have a smoke, or work with my books."

His mother smiled. "I will mention that, Haruka-san. And perhaps," she turned to his father, "if we put in a modern kitchen, that will help attract a good daughter-in-law."

***

A couple of weeks after Mother visited Imawari-san with the new information--including a department-store advertisement with a picture of the refrigerator she had persuaded Father to buy--Imawari-san sent a message with Grandfather that she had found a promising young lady.

"The Aiwa family would like to meet with you this Sunday if possible. They ask if you would do the honor of meeting at their home for tea."

After a long session in the bathhouse, followed by a remarkably difficult time getting dressed, Haruka found his usual easygoing calmness was long gone. He couldn't even get his hair to lie properly flat--one section seemed determined to give a half-flip over his ear. Waving a hairbrush, he wandered the house looking for Mother or Father, neither of whom seemed available. Keiko finally dragged him into her room and picked up a jar from her dresser.

"That doesn't smell like girl stuff, does it?" he asked, forehead wrinkling.

"Not a bit. Trust me." Standing on tiptoe, she fussed with his hair--all of it, not just the misbehaving bit. "There! Now you look perfect."

His hair was somewhat shinier than usual, but he looked...dashing. Like a movie actor, only in haori and hakama instead of a Western-style suit.

"Can't do anything about your clothes; it's too late to get you a decent suit," Keiko frowned. "But you look all right."

"Thank you, little sister," he smiled.

"It's nothing, big brother," she ducked her head briefly. "I'm glad I'm going with you! I want to see this woman and give you my opinion afterward."

"I'll appreciate that."

***

His first thought when he saw Aiwa Michiko-san was, _What an appealing armful she would be,_ followed quickly by, _She looks intelligent and lively, the sort of woman who could carry on an engaging conversation._ Her parents welcomed them in, and led them to a table set with a beautiful old teapot and a tempting array of snacks.

"Our Michiko prepared everything herself," her father announced with just the proper hint of pride.

He had a right to be proud. Imawari-san had found an excellent match. The conversation ranged from summer festivals to gardening to the latest adventure film at the cinema. Aiwa-san's eyes shone when Haruka told her about his experiences learning yabusame. Her hands fluttered gracefully when she described the rock garden she had planted with irises that had bloomed with great success. When Haruka invited her to visit the temple for a tour of the grounds and to meet Nokori, she looked eagerly to her parents for approval. And the food she had made was perfectly delicious.

Mother was the first to offer an opinion once they had boarded the train for the trip home. "She is clearly well brought up, of a good family, and well educated yet not overly modern." That last phrase was accompanied by a glance at her own daughter, who was absorbed in the view outside the window.

"I agree." Father added.

"She's a good one," Grandfather agreed. "Not too skinny, and she has an excellent hand with herbs in her cooking. She's a good conversationalist too."

"Marry her." Keiko sternly instructed her brother. "I want her for a sister-in-law."

"Don't I get a voice in this?" Haruka asked, but he smiled as he said it. He was glad they had a telephone now because he wanted to speak with Aiwa-san again before her visit the following Saturday, a visit both families approved as a chance for the two to get to know each other better, and for Aiwa Michiko to see what sort of home she would be going to if she were to be Haruka's bride.

That night Haruka dreamed he was lying on a futon in a small room on a mountainside, with a hot spring bubbling outside the window. Aiwa-san was in his arms, in a finely woven cotton yukata. Her hair, which had been carefully twisted in a soft knot at their meeting, now spilled over her shoulders. Her body was all warm, comforting curves. Haruka sighed and buried his face in her hair.

"I am all yours now," she murmured.

***

As soon as the hour was reasonable the next morning, he called the Aiwa residence. Aiwa Michiko answered the phone. Yes, the morning was beautiful (it was overcast and raining lightly). Haruka asked after her health, she asked if he'd ridden Nokomi that morning, and the conversation flowed like a mountain stream. An hour and a quarter later, Haruka finally became aware that someone was behind him. Apologizing to Aiwa-san, he covered the receiver and turned around

"Did you need the telephone, Father?"

"Not at the moment. But your grandfather has been waiting for you in the temple for half an hour."

***

Saturday Haruka was up before dawn. After taking care of his usual morning duties, he washed Nokomi and groomed her thoroughly. Then he bathed, shaved meticulously, and dressed in his the new riding clothes he'd bought earlier that week. He hardly tasted breakfast.

"Aiwa-san is staying for dinner, is she not?" his mother asked.

"Yes, she is. I'll take her riding first."

Aiwa-san wore practical brown trousers and a jade-green jacket, her hair fixed neatly with carved wooden hair-sticks. Haruka admired the carving on the hairpieces, causing Aiwa-san to flush slightly and smile. He took her on a tour of the temple, being sure to greet everyone. There was no trouble finding Keiko--she fluttered around them in her blue cotton dress, pointing out the electric kotatsu, the radio, and the carving of a cat that Haruka had made for her the winter Masahiro lived with them. When they arrived in the kitchen, Keiko made a point of offering Aiwa-san a cold drink from the brand-new refrigerator. Mother dusted off her hands and greeted Aiwa-san warmly. "Keiko, please fetch down some glasses for the tea."

Mother poured a glass for each of them, asking after Aiwa-san's parents, and then about her younger brothers, who had been out playing baseball at the time of the omiai meeting.

"They are both well. So full of mischief! Even when they were small, I had to move quickly to make certain they did not fall into a stream or climb too high into our old mulberry tree."

Mother beamed. Haruka could see visions of well-cared-for grandchildren in her mind.

"Brothers can be such a pain," Keiko began, but before she could take a breath Mother put in, "Haruka-san was an active boy too. And so helpful around the house. He hauled water into the kitchen for me every morning before Father-in-law had plumbing put in. And speaking of chores, Keiko, I will need your assistance with the dumplings for dinner. Thank you again for visiting our simple home, Aiwa-san."

Mother rose, bowed, and turned to the counter, and Keiko reluctantly joined her. Haruka smiled gratefully at his mother before leadingAiwa-san out the back door and toward the stable.

Nokomi was still clean and neat when they arrived, placidly chewing on some hay. Haruka guided Aiwa-san to hold out the piece of carrot he'd acquired from the kitchen. The two became instant friends.

After saddling up Nokomi, Haruka helped Aiwa-san into the saddle. She stepped gracefully enough into the stirrup, but he found it necessary to catch hold of her waist to make sure she had her balance. Soon Aiwa-san was smiling down at him.

"We'll begin at a walk," he suggested. "You did say you've been on a horse before?"

"A few times in the country, when we visited my cousins' farm."

They ambled about the property, Haruka pointing out the various trees and flowerbeds. Aiwa-san made a suggestion about how to best prune the roses, and exclaimed over the pond.

Haruka looked around carefully, spotting a kappa just at the end of the property.

"What?" Aiwa-san asked, noticing his concerned glance.

 _She's considering becoming the wife of a priest-exorcist. It's only fair that I mention such things,_ Haruka decided. "A kappa. It's far off, and won't trouble us."

"You can see them? I always wanted to see one, as a child. They look so funny in pictures!"

"They look just about like that in real life. They can cause harm, but are easy to fend off. I've kept them from coming near Keiko since she was a toddler."

"You are such a good big brother," Dimples showed when Aiwa-san smiled. "This morning you had such patience with Keiko."

"She can be annoying on occasion, but she's a lot of fun too. We used to go splashing in puddles as children, and I read her storybooks in the evening. She makes us all laugh with her stories about work, too. Keiko works for a magazine in the city, proofreading the text."

"She must be very intelligent!"

"She is. She graduated from high school, thanks to Mother and Father convincing Grandfather that she should go. I didn't, but I had three intense years of training to be a priest."

"Did you go to a monastery?"

Haruka told the story of his year in the mountain monastery--the cold, the beauty of the mountainside, the trees and rocks and the winter snow, and the solemn beauty of the monks chanting at dawn in the stone temple. Then he regaled her with tales of his years with Masahiro and his family--yabusame training, caring for the ancient little Shinto shrines along the mountain trails, and long winter nights of carving kitchen implements as well as charms and toys. He was about to offer to make toys for Aiwa-san's brothers, when he realized that it was possible his marriage to Aiwa-san might not be approved. Also, he had taken over the conversation.

"What do you do in the evenings?" he asked. "You mentioned ikebana last week at our initial meeting, but you can't do that every night."

"Oh, I do a little embroidery--I'm not very good at it though. I make some of my own clothes with a sewing machine. Western-style clothes are so expensive, that I make the ones I want for myself. This week, I made these traditional riding trousers. I bought brown as you said Nokomi was mostly brown, and I was certain horse hairs are much like cat-hairs and get all over one's clothing."

"Ah, do you have a cat?"

"We do! Her name is Mochi. She's fat and fluffy and cream-colored. I will miss her when I move...out." Aiwa-san flushed and bowed her head slightly.

 _That's promising. She's already thinking of leaving her family...and perhaps moving here as my bride. Ah, here's a bench. We should sit down._

Haruka brushed a couple of stray twigs off the wooden bench with his hand and motioned for Aiwa-san to sit. He tethered Nokomi to a nearby tree and sat beside her, leaving only a few centimeters between them.  
"We haven't had a cat since before I was born. Once the horses were gone there weren't enough mice to keep a cat properly fed, and we never thought to get one now that we have Nokomi, and more than enough money to spare to feed a cat."

"They're dear little animals. Mochi loves to curl up on my lap in the evening--which is a good excuse for me not to do embroidery!" Aiwa-san smiled. "I spend my winter evenings petting her and reading. I love folktales, traditional stories and odd little modern ones like Kenji Miyazawa's. I enjoy poetry too."

"I love to read also! I'm developing a collection of books. Many of them are Buddhist and Shinto folklore, but I also have folktales, as well as some novels and history, plus a few science books."

"I did well in science in junior high. Biology was my favorite class. I'd thought that if I worked for a living, I would want to be a nurse or midwife. But I'm the only daughter, and Mother wanted me to help her at home. Besides, she said I would be having my own children soon enough to care for."

Haruka was pleased that she did not blush or look away.

"I suppose that's true. But you can always enjoy learning. I've learned more from my book collection and from working in the temple than from my school classes."

"I know! I've learned more about life from helping my mother, and listening to her friends. Women can be quite frank when speaking among themselves sometimes!"

They both laughed at that, although Haruka recalled the feeling he had during the rare times he'd heard his mother's conversation with her friends, that important matters of life were being shared and resolved through a process he could never quite learn.

He slid just a little closer to Aiwa-san, wondering if he would be breaking a rule of omiai to ask if she, herself, wanted to marry him. _There is something I can ask that would let her know how I feel..._

"Aiwa-san, would it be all right, when we are alone like this, if I call you by your first name? If that is acceptable to you, then please call me Haruka-san also."

Ah, the brightness of her eyes as she turned to him! "Yes, Haruka-san, please call me Michiko-san."

"Michiko-san." He took her hand. How easy this was! And how easy it would be to lean in, just a little...

The sun came out from behind a cloud, nearly directly overhead.

"Ah, it must be nearly time for dinner!" Haruka exclaimed. _Best to wait until we've heard from her family before I kiss her. They seem as old-fashioned as my parents and Grandfather._

Dinner must have been delicious, but Haruka only saw and thought of Michiko-san, sitting at the family's table as if she would be there for decades. He was also in a haze as she made her farewell bows to his family and he saw her back safely to the subway station.

When he returned the family was sitting around the table. "When Imawari-san calls, please, unless you object," he looked quickly at his parents and saw no sign of objection, "tell her I would like to marry Aiwa Michiko-san."

Grinning like an idiot, Haruka sat down heavily at the table.

"We are most pleased with her too," Mother said immediately.

"I see no reason why we can't approve. Father, what do you think?"

Grandfather sat in silence a moment. He cleared his throat. "All of you have such excellent judgement. I am in complete agreement with you. I think Aiwa-san will bring happiness to our home, especially to our Haruka." He was grinning almost as widely as Haruka himself.

"Don't you want to know what _I_ think?" Keiko demanded.

"You already told me last week that I should marry her."

Keiko made a face at him as Mother rose from the table.

"Imawari-san just bought a telephone," she began.

"Probably with our omiai fee," Father muttered.

"I'll call her right away and let her know of our decision."

A few hours later, Haruka was busy welcoming a young couple who had just moved into the neighborhood when he heard the phone ring. _It's probably one of Keiko's friends. Michiko-san and her parents may need more time to decide. Remain calm and focus on your priestly duties._ Focusing was difficult, though, as the couple regularly stole glances at each other, and the young man asked for a special blessing for _their_ new home with evident pride.  
"And for many children," his wife added, blushing.

He accompanied them to their modest apartment, which he was happy to discover did not have any malicious spirits nearby. After providing a blessing, he returned home.

"Imawari-san called. The Aiwa family accepts our offer of marriage to Michiko-san. They are visiting their local Shinto temple to ask about auspicious days in the fall for a wedding."

"Banzai!" Haruka shouted, waving his arms around like a junior-high-school boy who had just won a sports championship.

"Come in, come in," his father called from the main room. Everyone was seated at the table with an enormous bottle of Kurosawa sake waiting in the middle.

"The red-bean rice should be just about ready," his mother called over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen.

They all drank several toasts to the prospect of adding Aiwa Michiko-san to the family. Haruka was already drunk on happiness--his own and his family's--before he took the first sip.


	4. Married Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka and Michiko's wedding and marriage, including children.   
> This chapter includes semi-explicit wedding-night sex.

Haruka's mother invited the Aiwa family for dinner to celebrate Haruka and Michiko's engagement. Mother and Keiko spent nearly two days preparing the meal. Haruka was instructed to put the grounds in perfect order--as if he hadn't just done so for Michiko's visit. Grandfather went into the city expressly to buy a bottle of fine sake, with Father quietly providing the money for it all from a special household fund he'd set aside for Haruka's marriage.

The greetings, the food, and the conversation all went well--at least, Haruka hoped they had. He could only remember a brief moment under the maple tree in the garden, where he and Michiko had their first kiss. And their second, and third.

Their wedding day approached so quickly that Haruka barely noticed summer turning into fall. Mother's mother arrived two days before the wedding, accompanied by Haruka's maiden cousin. Grandmother was quite deaf but seemed as lively as Keiko from the moment the conductor assisted her off the train. She firmly clutched an ancient inlaid box that held family heirlooms for Haruka's wedding.

After dinner Grandmother held court sitting at the center of the main room, with the box in her lap. First, she brought out a set of exquisitely carved ivory combs for Mother. "You should keep these with you now," Grandmother declared. "They should grace a younger woman such as yourself, whose hair is still dark. Also, you may have another reason to wear them soon." She turned her gaze on Keiko, who actually blushed. "And for my little flower, these." She presented lacquered hairsticks decorated with silk asters. Keiko accepted them with a bow, eyeing Mother as she rose. They had waged a subtle battle over whether Keiko would wear kimono or a Western-style taffeta gown Keiko had pointedly admired in the local department store. Mother had won, of course, and a gorgeous kimono printed with elegantly colorful fall leaves waited in Keiko's bedroom.

Lastly, Grandmother turned to Haruka. "No doubt you have a netsuke or two from your father's family, but I should like you to have your grandfather's old writing-case." The cylindrical ivory case was finely carved in an openwork style that was light but sturdy. The central design was a dragon, each whisker and scale perfectly incised.

"Thank you, Grandmother." Haruka bowed. "Father did give me a Doumeki family netsuke. and I shall wear them both proudly at my wedding." He had planned to carry a silk tobacco pouch containing his cigarettes, but he could not refuse Grandmother's gift.

Father had given Haruka the oldest and most valuable Doumeki natsuki the previous morning. Haruka had been startled to see that the ivory was carved into an amazing likeness of Zashiki. He showed it to her that evening, and she nodded in recognition.

"I remember when Aki, your great-great-great grandfather, made the sketch for that carving. He asked my permission to have it made, and brought it to one of the best artisans in Tokyo at the time." She gazed at the floor shyly. "Your bride has a most beautiful soul, Haruka. I hope to bring the two of you and your children much happiness."

***

The wedding day began in a mist. Haruka had bathed the night before, so he had plenty of time to put on his wedding kimono. He wrapped each layer carefully, especially his new jacket with the beautifully embroidered Doumeki crests on front and back. _So many men have done this before me; I pray I will always bring honor to the family in all that I do. And that I will be a devoted and loving husband to my Michiko_.

Lastly, he fastened the writing case to his obi with his netsuke and cord. Fingers on the netsuke, he was grateful that Zashiki would be at the ceremony with the rest of his family in that form, at least. He checked that all was well and finally looked in the mirror.

 _"Keikooo!!!"_

His sister, still in yukata with her makeup half-applied, came running in breathlessly.

"What is it, nii-san?"

"My hair! Do you still have that shiny stuff?"

Keiko leaned against his wardrobe, laughing helplessly.

"It's not--" Then Haruka began laughing too. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone to bed last night with my hair still damp."

"No..." Still grinning, Keiko gestured to the chair by Haruka's desk. "Sit. I'll be back once I've finished my makeup, and I'll fix your hair.

***

The Shinto temple near the Aiwa home was surrounded by trees brilliant in gold, burgundy, and scarlet leaves.

"I'll disappear among the trees!" Keiko mock-pouted, swirling in her leaf-printed silk kimono.

"I don't think so." Haruka noticed least two young men at the temple entrance admiring his sister. They were dressed formally enough to be wedding guests--cousins of Michiko's, he supposed. He turned to his mother, lovely in her eggplant-colored kimono with pale chrysanthemums embroidered on it.

She smiled at him. "You look perfect, my son. And so calm."

He laughed. "I hope my only moment of nervousness was this morning when I called out for Keiko!"

Oddly, it was. He knew every detail of the Shinto ceremony from his year with Masahiro's family, so he had no concern about his role. And he wasn't nervous when he first saw Michiko--no, he was transported. She was all quiet grace in her white wedding kimono, her face perfectly made up to accent her long-lashed, deep brown eyes, the subtly sculpted oval of her face, and her full, rosy lips. _Don't think too much about that, or the curves under those layers of carefully wrapped white silk. Not yet...._

The ceremony began. Haruka was focused utterly on each prayer, each sip of sake from the shared cup, and at one pause, the very slight upturn of the corners of Michiko's lips, specially meant for only him to see.

They were married. He signed the contract in his best calligraphy, followed by Michiko's simpler but beautifully curved writing. The reception was amazing--delicious food, wonderful toasts by the appropriate family members, and many good wishes offered by both families and friends. Shinobu congratulated him warmly but with propriety, having delivered some rather frank wedding-night advice several nights before. His wife stood nearby with their sons, holding the younger one by the hand and smiling fondly as Michiko praised the boys' good manners.

Masahiro bowed, barely concealing an awkward grin. He indicated the slim woman by his side. "This is my fiancee, Emiko. We look forward to seeing you at our own wedding in two weeks."

Emiko stammered out a greeting and congratulations, bowing deeply but hurriedly. She reminded Haruka of the young does who had shied away from him and Masahiro when they'd gone hiking in the mountains so many years ago.

At long last, Grandfather drove them in the horse-cart to the nearest train station to depart for their honeymoon. Haruka and Michiko each gave Nokori a pat before saying farewell to Grandfather.

The moment they stepped into their room at the inn, Haruka recognized the site of his dream the night after he'd met his bride. The quiet, simple room; the large futon; the hot spring not far from the window--and Michiko. She insisted that he bathe before she did, despite his protests.

It seemed to take forever to remove his wedding clothes, then to wash away the sweat from a very eventful day. _Michiko will wash next,_ he thought. _First she'll need to remove all those layers, then to clean herself especially well, as I am doing. Then...perhaps a bath in our private spring?...No, she is still an innocent virgin, she could not want to bathe together. She may not want me to look at her at all the first few times._

He finished washing, leaving the small but private washroom to her. Eventually she emerged as the last light slanted through the windows, wearing the fine white yukata the inn had provided.

"Haruka? She knelt before him. "I did not think it would have to be said, but some of my...acquaintances...it seemed, did not..they did not wait until their wedding night. My husband, I have waited for you to be the first man to embrace me. I have read one of the old books, so I know how things are between a man and a woman, and some of the ways to please you."

Haruka dropped to one knee, then knelt in front of her, taking her hands. "My dearest wife. Thank you for waiting for me, and for telling me." He bent his head to their foreheads gently touched. "I have only a little experience, but I have done much reading also, so I know how to take good care of you. I promise I will be gentle, and will do my best to please you." He stroked her hair. It was as soft as he remembered from his dream. "Michiko, dear, shall we begin?"

"I am ready...Haruka."

She still seemed nervous, so he took her in his arms, kissing her fine little ear.

Once he felt her relax, he helped Michiko stand. "May I remove your hair combs?"

Michiko smiled. "Yes, please."

Her long hair tumbled first one shoulder, then the other, then down her back. Haruka's fingers combed through it, catching once. "Sorry," he murmured.

"It's fine." Michiko rested a hand on his chest. He could feel warmth through the thin yukata fabric, and a slight restlessness.

"Touch me all you want." he encouraged her. "We belong to each other now."

Michiko shyly touched the bare skin over his breastbone, then slid her hand a few centimeters beneath his yukata. Her touch was delicate.

 _We are going to be very happy together, once we get past our nervousness and get to know each other's bodies more_ , Haruka thought. He lightly stroked her back through the fabric, then caught her hips in his hands. _Slowly, slowly,_ he reminded himself. _Even so, it will hurt her when the moment comes._

Haruka softly kissed Michiko's neck and shoulder as he held her lightly. Then he drew his hands up over the curves of her waist and onto her breasts. They were firm and seemed to want to nuzzle against the palms of his hands. Michiko's knees gave way and she sighed.

So, he caught her in his arms and led her to the futon in the twilight-clouded room. They lay down and he began stroking her again, her hair first, then her throat, and downward along the edge of her half-open yukata, stopping at the sash-knot at her waist.

"Yes," Michiko whispered as he began to untie it. "I am all yours now."

His breathing quickened. _I want her, yes. And she wants this too._ The yukata slipped from Michiko's body seemingly on its own, and she sighed a little raggedly. Then her fingers began working at the knot on his sash. She parted the fabric and he flung it off hurriedly, then put his hands on her bare waist.

"You are lovely."

Gently, gently his hands discovered her curves. Her hands lighted on his shoulders, then found his bare chest. He shivered as her fingers brushed one of his nipples.

"Mm! Yes," he encouraged her.

After that their hands were everywhere, sometimes pulling back if the other person's response seemed to hold more shock than pleasure. And despite the care he'd taken exploring the delicate flesh between her thighs with his fingertips and some oil he'd brought along, it still hurt when he entered her.

"Go on," she whispered to him. "We must finish."

 _A good wife,_ he thought, _knowing we must get through this part._ It all went so quickly after that, Haruka's desire overtaking his thoughts.

"Thank you, dear," Haruka murmured, stroking her tangled, damp hair. "It will be sweet for you also, soon."

Michiko nodded against his chest as she clung to him.

"I'll bring something so you can wash." Haruka rose, pulled on his yukata, and padded to the washroom, bringing back a warm, wet cloth.

When he returned, Michiko was lying on her side, softly illuminated by moonlight. Her yukata lay neatly across the foot of the bed.

"My husband?"

"Yes?"

"Can you please...remove...your clothing?"

Haruka smiled. _I have a rather courageous young bride_. He slipped out of the yukata and stepped into the path of the moonlight.

"Oh!...Very handsome." Michiko's eyelids were half shut, but he knew she'd taken a good look before shyness overwhelmed her.

"A little at a time, dear," he smiled, climbing into the futon. "Shall I wear the yukata in bed, or leave it beside yours?"

"Beside yours," she murmured into her pillow. "I mean, mine."

Haruka draped the yukata next to Michiko's and burrowed into the futon beside his bride.

***

Haruka and Michiko's first child arrived the second winter after they were married, just before dawn. The baby was born in the local hospital and not at home as Haruka and his sister had been. After waiting through the night with other expectant fathers, he started when his name was called.

The nurse who called him held out the tiny white-wrapped bundle. "A healthy little girl," she said, watching his reaction.

Haruka stared. His daughter was so tiny--tinier than he'd ever remembered Keiko being--and despite being wrinkly and dark, an adorable little thing with her mother's small, full lips.

He looked up at the nurse anxiously. "And my wife?"

"She is well. She is asleep now, but you can visit her at noon, just before her dinner, if you like."

Haruka sighed and murmured a brief prayer of thanksgiving. "Thank you." He bowed. "And thank you for bringing out my beautiful daughter. I must call my family now, and hers, and give them the good news."  
Mother took a taxi to meet Haruka, and they entered the maternity ward as soon as they were permitted.

Michiko greeted them both with an apology. "I am sorry I could not provide a son."

"My wife, you have given us a beautiful girl," Haruka smiled tenderly at the pale, tired woman on the bed. "She has a sweet little face, and is fine and healthy. The nurse says you are well also," he added dubiously. Defying propriety, he reached out and lightly stroked his wife's hair. Mother's eyes widened but she didn't so much as make a noise of displeasure.

"She is indeed a fine, healthy child," Mother agreed. "Your mother called just before we left home, and she shall be here by evening to see you. Now, we'll leave you to have your dinner and regain some strength, and see the little one again on our way out."

Haruka turned to his mother. He'd wanted to talk with his wife some more, or at least sit with her. But a nurse was standing by the bed with a steaming food cart.

"Thank you," she replied. "I'll be home in a few days with the little one."

Mother turned to Haruka as they headed down the hospital hallway. "You are very understanding husband, my son."

"I am grateful to have a healthy child, and a wife who came through childbirth safely and in good health," he responded. Even now that he'd seen Michiko, he was concerned. "It is normal for her to be that tired, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Mother had that little "women's secrets" smile on her face.

Haruka didn't mention he'd also had a dream just after falling asleep the night before where he'd been at the beside of a woman with a baby. The woman had not been Michiko, which startled him, but the young man near her looked much like Michiko's younger brothers that he felt sure he was his and Michiko's son. As if to confirm that, the man had looked up and called him "Father." At that point Haruka awoke to find Michiko stirring in the futon, moaning softly with labor pains. From that point on, the gender of any of his children no longer mattered.

***

Michiko recovered quickly, especially once she was home and eating all the traditional dishes Mother knew to restore a new mother's health and fortify the milk for her child. Watching Michiko nurse little Fumiko brought more serenity to Haruka's heart than any prayer.

He only wished the rest of his family were doing as well as his wife and daughter. Mother seemed to move a little more slowly, Father's leg was troubling him more than it ever had, and Grandfather was tired a great deal and seemed to be losing weight. Soon after Michiko and Fumiko's homecoming, the two older men called Haruka into the small room they used as the temple's office. After reviewing the temple activities and accounts, Father and Grandfather made some vague references finally crystallized in Haruka's mind as indicating Grandfather no longer felt up to leading in temple duties. Father added that there were finally more young priests available to work. Then there was the matter of Haruka's gifts with what Father called "unusual spiritual matters." Haruka was considered one of the best exorcists in the Tokyo area, as well as a man unusually gifted at resolving other matters both supernatural and spiritual. Not to mention that nearly everyone asked if Haruka could do the necessary calligraphy for funerals. The mutually agreed upon conclusion was that Haruka would take over as chief priest, and that the temple needed to hire at least one assistant priest, possibly two, with Father focusing on recordkeeping.

"I intend to spend my days chatting with my friends and dispensing advice." Grandfather informed Haruka. "Including advising you on temple matters, although I don't think you need much advice any longer."

Haruka bowed in appreciation of the greatest compliment Grandfather had ever given him.

***

Life seemed to speed up every month, then every day. Keiko married a cousin of Michiko's she had met at the wedding. Little Fumiko grew into a lively but obedient child. And one morning Haruka entered Grandfather's room to waken him for breakfast for the first time ever, only to find him perfectly still and not responding. Haruka had seen enough corpses to know the difference between sleeping and death by his senses, but he still took Grandfather's wrist to check his pulse. Holding the cold, lifeless hand Haruka slowly dropped to his knees and bowed quietly in sorrow.

"I will miss you," he murmured.

Parishioners, relatives, and both Buddhist and Shinto priests from around the city and countryside came for Grandfather's funeral. Masahiro was one of them, of course, to see his his old teacher on to the next life. Three monks traveled from the Buddhist monastery to conduct the ceremony. Haruka met them at the train, and was delighted to see his uncle was one of the monks.

They bowed, Haruka and Uncle Taki greeting one another with sad smiles. "It is good to see you, Uncle, and to share this time with you." Uncle Taki had not received permission from his abbot to attend either his wedding or Keiko's, so this was a special blessing.

"I am grateful to visit with you and the family also. We shall see Father on to his new life together."

Haruka did his best calligraphy in writing Grandfather's death-name, remembering the years--no, decades--of effort Grandfather had put into his training for the priesthood, and for life. He also thought of Zashiki Warashi, who had told him of her interest in moving into Grandfather's old room.

"The kitchen has too many electrical items for me to feel comfortable there," she had told him.

Haruka nodded; he'd felt the change in chi as each new appliance was installed. "You are certainly welcome to do so. The new priest has moved into Uncle Taki's old room, so Grandfather's room is free." Haruka and his wife now had the room that had belonged to Uncle Kazuo and his wife, while Fumiko had moved into Keiko's old room, which had been Kiko's before that. "Michiko and I are expecting another child, and we are thinking of putting the new baby in there, once the child is old enough. Would that be acceptable?"

"Of course. I would love to share a room with a child of the new Doumeki generation. I had considered the snow-child's room"--that was her nickname for Fumiko--"but your grandfather's room is more central and more auspicious for a spirit's dwelling."

***

After visiting his own family's graves that year for O-bon, sharing news with the living and the ancestors about the new baby, Haruka joined his wife and her family. They were chatting over the Aiwa gravesite when a woman passing by stopped and queried, "Doumeki-san?"

Haruka looked up. The woman was unusually tall--his wife's height--and the curves of her mouth and forehead were oddly familiar.

"Yes; I am Doumeki Haruka," he replied.

"Cousin Haruka!" The woman's voice boomed as she bowed. "I...it has been so long... I am sorry!"

"Kiku? Cousin Kiku?"

"Yes!" She laughed. "I am here with my husband's family for O-bon." She tugged at the child she held by her hand. "This is my son, Hikaru. Greet your Uncle Doumeki, Hikaru."

"Good afternoon, Uncle Doumeki," The boy, about five years old, bowed.

Introductions were made properly all around. Kiku's husband was shorter than she was, and stout, and a prosperous bank manager. Kiku expressed her regrets at Grandfather's death. "I am sorry he could not meet his great-grandson."

"As I am. We were blessed that he lived long enough to see little Fumiko." Haruka stroked his daughter's hair.

"I must make amends. You are still all at the temple, I am sure."

Haruka nodded. "I am chief priest now."

"Ah, congratulations! I am not surprised. You seemed to be an especially spiritual child."

That remembrance came as a shock to Haruka. He'd never imagined Kiku had seen him as anything other than a little kid to order around.

"I wish to invite your parents to Hikaru's Shichi-go-san visit in the fall." Kiku was saying.

"They would be delighted to see you and your family. And your mother is well, I hope."

"Mother is not well enough for visiting. But I shall tell her news of the family."

"Please tell her my parents are both still living. Father is keeping the temple records, and spending much time with his books. Uncle Taki is a monk; he came with others from the monastery for Grandfather's funeral. My little sister Keiko is married to a cousin of my wife's, an editor at Kodansha."

"A little sister! I should like to meet her."

Hikaru frowned. "There are too many girls in this family."

Fumiko stuck out her tongue at him.

Both children were scolded, though their parents smiled privately at one another. Such familiar behavior.

"Perhaps," Haruka knelt to address his nephew, "we will have a little boy cousin for you by the time of your shichi-go-san."

"The little one is due in September," Michiko told Kiku, who began asking about other details of Michiko's condition in the familiar way women often had about such things.

That fall a certain suburban shrine was bustling with Doumeki relatives, with Father making a rare trip outside the temple to see his long-lost niece, and to accept congratulations on the birth of his grandson Keitaro.


	5. Grandparenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doumeki Shizuka makes his appearance as an infant, and follows more or less in his grandfather's footsteps--in a girl's kimono.

Haruka and his wife hurried excitedly to the hospital to see their first grandson. The moment they entered their daughter-in-law's hospital room, Haruka recognized the scene from his dreams so many years ago. Fuka lay in the bed, looking exhausted yet pleased. Keitaro stood near her, looking down admiringly at the small bundle in Fuka's arms.

"Father, Mother," he called. "Come see your grandson."

Michiko bowed, all smiles. "Thank you dear, daughter-in-law, for all your work in giving birth. And Keitaro, for your part in presenting us with such a handsome and healthy grandchild."

"He is..." Haruka reached out a tentative hand, lightly touching the crown of the baby's head. The little one stared up at him as if in recognition. "a remarkable child. Thank you both, so much."

Both young people bowed in return.

"Father," Keitaro said, "we cannot decide on a name for this child. Will you do us the honor of naming him?"

Haruka studied the child. _So small, yet already with such a serious face._ "How was he, when he was born?"

"Just a brief cry, then he blinked and stared." Fuka said. "The nurse said he must be an old soul."

"I wonder." Haruka studied the child. He did not have the impression that the child was the reincarnation of anyone familiar, such as his own father or grandfather. Certainly he was an odd little creature, unlike Keitaro, who had waved his little fists about and cried lustily from his first hour. Haruka closed his eyes for a moment, resting his hand lightly on the infant's chest. "Such a quiet and steady child. I think a good name would be 'Shizuka.'"

"I like it," Fuka bent slightly to look in her son's eyes. "Shizuka, yes?"

One of the baby's hands escaped the blanket, fist unfolding and held out toward Haruka.

"It's decided, then," A smile slowly appeared on Keitaro's normally sober face.

***

Shizuka remained a serious child, so much so that no one called him Shizuka-chan once he began walking, not even his mother. He wasn't particularly interested in playing with the other toddlers in the neighborhood, preferring to stack his blocks by himself, or to listen to his mother's songs or his grandfather's stories.

Even though he rarely spent time with other children, little Shizuka caught colds and other illnesses easily. Just after his second birthday, he ran a frighteningly high fever for three days. Then he caught the chicken pox--one of the worst cases the doctor had ever seen--and his recovery took several weeks.

One of the doctors at the local hospital, where Shizuka was a frequent patient, recommended a specialist. "All children pick up illnesses, but this is unusual," he told Shizuka's parents. "Until the appointment, I suggest you keep him at home and allow as little contact with others as possible. And don't let him play in dirt or with plants or water outside."

While everyone waited for the day of the specialist's appointment, Haruka consulted some of his books, spoke with Masahiro (who had only speculations to offer) and, finally, turned to Zashiki.

"I can't get close to the child, even though he's in the room next to mine," she told Haruka late one night after the rest of the family was asleep. "His very self repels spirits of all kinds. I can tell that he has very strong chi, and a very pure spirit, more so than any Doumeki child I've seen since I took up residence in this temple."

"So he has the family ability."

"Not exactly; it seems he can't _see_ supernatural beings. He certainly doesn't seem to see or even sense me. Also, one day when you were out, a very strong youkai was able to get onto the temple grounds and into the house--but it stopped several meters from the child."

Haruka thought about these facts, in conjunction with his reading.

"I would think the more malevolent youkai would want to destroy him, before he develops his natural exorcism abilities. Are they attacking him somehow through diseases?"

"It's possible." Zashiki frowned slightly. "That is something I don't know about."

"How can I protect him?" Haruka paced about the room. "I need to do something!"

He went outside despite the late hour, taking a flashlight to his warehouse of books. As he pulled out a book on protective rituals, another title on chi came out with it. Haruka sat in the warehouse all night reading them both. The next morning he had breakfast with his son and daughter in law, saying goodbye as they left to bring Shizuka to the specialist. Then he sat in the main room to continue reading, his cigarettes lying forgotten on the table beside him.

When they returned that afternoon, little Shizuka was tucked into bed right away, already coughing and running a low fever after his day out in public.

"The specialist says Shizuka has an immunity disorder," Keitaro explained to his father. "There is no way to prevent him from being ill most of the time, unless they put him in an isolation room."

"That is no life for a child," Fuka sighed. "Even we would not be able to touch or play with him. The doctor did say many children eventually grow out of such disorders. I was hoping there would be something we could do, some kind of treatment..." Her throat tightened and she gazed down at the floor.

"There just might be. I have been thinking and studying." Haruka didn't add that he'd been consulting with Zashiki as well. His son had no abilities himself, and although Keitaro had witnessed a couple of Haruka's exorcisms he drew the line at believing in house spirits. "Shizuka has the potential to be a powerful exorcist. Because of this, spirits cannot attack him directly, but they can manipulate the chi around him to affect his own body's chi. This allows diseases to break down his health."

Fuka blinked and looked up at her father-in-law, eyes beginning to shine with hope as well as tears.

"The solution is to alter his appearance and the chi around him. The prescribed traditional method for a boy with weakened chi is to dress him as a girl. Altering his appearance in such a manner will alter the chi around him and confuse the spirits. Thus they will be blocked from manipulating the chi around him."

"I...suppose we could try it," Keitaro's brow was furrowed. "Certainly other people will treat him differently. The ones who know he's a boy will think it's odd, and the ones who don't will treat him like a girl."

"I'm willing to try it," Fuka added.

"I think it's a good plan," Michiko agreed, suddenly looking ten years younger. "I saved a couple of Fumiko's little kimono, so we can begin today if you like. Does the clothing need to be traditional, or can we dress him in Western girl's dresses, my husband?"

"I would try traditional dress. If that works, we can see if Western clothes are as effective."

"I hope they are," Fuka sighed. "Kimono are so expensive, and hot in the summertime. Will we need to dress him in girls' underwear also, once he is old enough?"

"I would think so. Clothing is very powerful."

"That is true," Keitaro nodded. Haruka recalled the first time Keitaro had put on priest's robes for a ceremony. His son had remarked on how he had suddenly felt far more spiritual and capable than usual.

The next day, Fuka dressed Shizuka in one of his aunt's old spring kimono. His illness seemed no worse, and was gone by the next day. Within a week, Shizuka was playing outside without catching any illnesses, and even a scrape on his hand didn't get infected. Fuka bought him a Western-style dress, pink trousers, and a smock with sakura blossoms on it. They worked just as well.

The real test was a family visit. Fumiko seemed surprised and doubtful, and her husband muttered irritably about 'ancient superstition' when Haruka was out of earshot. But an afternoon of Shizuka (in the pants and smock) building a village out of sticks and new-mown grass with his cousins and then falling asleep on the his parents' bed along with the other toddlers convinced everyone.

As the years went on, Shizuka calmly accepted the girl's clothing, showing a marked preference for traditional clothing. Fuka and Michiko made pretty cotton yukata from their own worn-out garments, and Fuka bought pastel-colored barrettes and hair ribbons to hold back Shizuka's silky shoulder-length hair in the hot weather.

Shizuka was still very much a boy, though. He refused dolls, preferring his blocks, crayons, and a toy bow and arrows Uncle Masahiro had made and sent for his third birthday. However, he loved storybooks, whether the characters were boys, girls, rabbits, or puppies. "They're almost as good as Grandfather Haruka's stories," Shizuka declared.

The boy followed his grandfather around around like a little attendant spirit, and never seemed to forget anything he was told, from stories about the kappa who lived by the pond to the correct way to hold a bow. Nothing seemed to shock Shizuka either, from his first sight of a newly-dead corpse to his cousin Aki telling him he would turn into a girl from wearing girl's clothes all the time.

"I will not," he insisted. "Grandfather said I won't. And don't say what I really am; the youkai aren't supposed to know that."

"There are no youkai, they're just stories for stupid kids like you," Aki insisted.

"They aren't!" Shizuka grabbed his cousin, six years old to his four, and dragged him outside to Grandfather's "smoking place" on the back porch.

"Grandfather, tell Aki the youkai are real!"

Haruka, who had heard the entire conversation, of course, sighed.

"Aki, I know your father said they don't exist. Youkai are rare these days, and don't show themselves to many people, so it's no wonder your father doesn't believe in them."

"Have you seen any?" Aki asked eagerly.

"I've seen a few."

"He's seen ghosts, too." Shizuka added.

"Tell me!"

Haruka told three stories in a row--one about an enormous youkai that had possessed a parishioner, another about one that had chased him and Masahiro down a dirt road many years ago, and, to prove they weren't all frightening, about Zashiki Warashi. He finished by making Aki promise not to tell his father about the stories. "It's a special grandfather's secret, all right?" he asked, tousling the boy's hair.

"Yes, Grandfather."

After supper that night, Shizuka approached Haruka's chair.

"Grandfather?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Shizuka?"

"I _won't_ turn into a girl, will I?"

"No, Shizuka, you will always be a boy. You were born a boy with all the boy parts. You know about boy and girl parts, right?"

Shizuka nodded. "But," he whispered. "we can't talk about me really being a boy or the youkai will hear."

"If they aren't around, it's all right, Shizuka. I can tell you there are none in the house right now. They don't often get in; I've put protections around the main building here. But I can't protect outside, or the street or the shops."

"Should I act like a girl? I don't like dolls, and I don't want my hair in braids."

"You should act like Shizuka. That is what will truly confuse the youkai that are trying to hurt you."  
Soon after that conversation, Haruka began feeling uneasy. He concluded it wasn't about Shizuka, but still couldn't quite grasp what was going on. That night, he spoke about it with Michiko as they lay beside each other in the large futon they preferred over having two separate ones laid close together.

"I don't know what it is; I simply know something is wrong."

"You will be able to discover what it is, dear husband. I trust you." Michiko touched his shoulder, and they drew into each other's arms.

"Ah, my Michiko. My dear wife." Haruka pressed his lips to her forehead, noticing the white hairs gleaming amidst the dark ones. Still, he didn't feel entirely at ease. _I'll check with Zashiki,_ he thought. _Tomorrow night, though_

***

The next afternoon, while Michiko was out visiting friends, Haruka took a phone call. It was Shinobu's younger son, the local police chief."

"Doumeki-san, I have bad news. Your wife just collapsed at the market. They're bringing her to the hospital."

Haruka's voice stuck in his throat. He nearly dropped the receiver. "I'll be there," he finally said."

He stopped just long enough to tell Fuka and Shizuka, who were reading a storybook together, before running out to flag down a taxi.

When he reached the hospital, the doctor quietly told him Michiko was dead. "We think it was a stroke, but we aren't sure," he said. "I'm very sorry, Doumeki-sama."

Haruka half-turned away, then remembered his manners. "Thank you, sensei" he murmured.

"You can see her if you like, The room's just down the hall."

Haruka breathed slowly, a sutra for the dead stuttering through his mind, as he followed the doctor to a small, dim room. Michiko's body, still in the blue dress she'd worn as she said goodbye to him an hour before, lay utterly still on a cloth-covered pallet.

The doctor shut the door, and Haruka dropped to his knees and sobbed as he hadn't since his uncle had died when he was a child.

That night he demanded of Zashiki, "What is the good fortune in this?"

Zashiki sighed. "I cannot make everything go well. I will tell you that your wife had a nasty growth inside her that could not be cured. It would have begun causing her pain soon."

Haruka blinked away tears. He thought about his mother, who had died of cancer herself, and about his father slowly wasting away. Death was always sad for those left behind, but his Michiko hadn't suffered. He only wished she'd lived to see Shizuka strong and healthy. "Perhaps she is looking down on us from the next life," he whispered.

Zashiki simply sat with him, a silent but welcome presence.  


Shizuka had taken the news calmly, but seemed more sober than usual. "Grandmother smelled the nicest of anyone," he said. "And I loved her cooking the best."

Fuka did well taking over the household tasks, though her cooking never measured up to Michiko's. For the sake of easing her burden, and to have the quality of food he was used to, Haruka took to eating at local noodle shops and restaurants.

Fuka smiled ruefully. "I know I do not have Mother-in-law's skill. Please go enjoy yourself, and visit with your friends also."

Keitaro had no trouble with his wife's cooking, but Shizuka loved accompanying his grandfather. He had his favorite places--and specifically, his favorite chefs at each shop. He refused anything made by the head chef at the best restaurant in the neighborhood, preferring the assistant chef's dishes.

"I don't like his food," Shizuka said one afternoon, pushing away an elegant shrimp dish.

Haruka tried a bite. "It seems very good to me. Perhaps there is too much garlic for you?"

"No," Shizuka replied. "I just don't...want to eat it."

The head chef heard about Shizuka's comment from a gossipy waiter, and approached Haruka and Shizuka's table, glowering.

Haruka apologized profusely. "This little one is somewhat troublesome about food," he explained. "It's not about the quality of your cuisine--Shizuka will eat my daughter-in-law's cooking, which is not nearly as good as yours."

The chef, who was new to the area, pressed his lips together. "I have studied under the best chefs in Tokyo. And this little girl..." he scowled briefly at Shizuka, who calmly stared back. Then he laughed shortly. "What an odd little thing you are. So, you like Tsuda-kun's food better than mine?"

Shizuka nodded. Haruka nudged his foot beneath the table and whispered, "Apologize, Shizuka."

The child obediently rose to his feet and bowed. "I am sorry. I do not mean any insult, Chef-sama."

The chef grinned at Shizuka. "You're a polite child, at least. Enjoy Tsuda-kun's dishes, little one. He returned to the kitchen, shaking his head. "Odd child. Very odd child."

After that, Shizuka tried the head chef's food again, and declared he would eat it after all. He finished every bit, and asked for the chef's special dessert as well.

Haruka pondered this latest surprise in his grandson's behavior.

***

The family decided not to bring Shizuka for shichi-go-san the fall after he turned five years old, after Haruka said it wouldn't have any meaning. "It wouldn't be appropriate. Shizuka is still not ready for boy's clothing yet."

They'd found that out the hard way during the O-bon holidays, when Keitaro had thought a couple of hours of Shizuka splashing naked in a pond with his cousins would do no harm. The boy caught pneumonia and was in the hospital again. Fortunately, the children's hospital gowns were unisex so they didn't have to struggle with the staff over clothing.

The three adults had also agreed school would be a bad idea. There was the matter of whether Shizuka would stand in the boys' line or the girls', and of course the dilemma of the school bathrooms.

Shizuka didn't mind when he was told he'd be learning at home instead of going to kindergarten. "I hate those ugly blue skirts anyway. I want to learn, though."

"Mother and Grandfather will teach you," Keitaro explained. "Mother studied to be an elementary school teacher before we were married, after all. And Grandfather taught me to be a priest; he can teach you things also."

Shizuka's golden eyes lit up, and a rare smile turned up the edges of his mouth. "Good. I will have the best teachers."

Haruka enjoyed teaching once again. His daughter-in-law taught most of the academic subjects, but he was taught Shizuka calligraphy, history, the basics of Buddhism, kyuudo, woodwork, and gardening.

Shizuka learned rapidly, doing well on every examination Fuka gave him. His health only gave way when he was outside for a long period of time, and even then he never had to go to the hospital again. And there was nothing wrong with the child's appetite, aside from his fussiness about who cooked his food.

One thing only troubled Haruka. Straightforward as always, he asked his grandson directly one day when they sat on the back porch.

"Shizuka, why don't you smile very often?"

"Why do you smile all the time?" Shizuka promptly responded.

"Because life is so good."

"It is?"

 _How did the child get so cynical at the age of seven?_ Haruka wondered. "It is, Shizuka. Not all the time. But one enjoys the good things in life when they come. Food, friendship, enjoyment of all kinds. They come and go. You don't understand; you have so much: a safe home, more food than you can eat--"

"No!"

"There is a limit to what even you can eat, Shizuka." Haruka put out his cigarette, recalling that Fuka said the smoke was bad for children, and went on. "When I was a child during the war, and in the early days after the Americans took over our country there was never enough to eat. I learned to appreciate whatever food I had. My father and grandfather never ate meat, Shizuka. I do, because when I had the chance to eat meat as a child, it was food and I took it happily. I decided there's no use in being an ascetic--that means someone like a monk who does not indulge themselves in good things. The universe will take things from you often enough, Shizuka." _People, mostly._ Haruka thought. _My grandfather, my parents, and my dear Michiko._ "Enjoy what you can have. Just don't have too much of it, and deal calmly with what you cannot have."

***

Every spring at school-registration time they tried dressing Shizuka in boy's clothes again, borrowing them from a relative or neighbor. As soon as he began to cough or run a fever, they stopped. The year he was ten, though, Shizuka dressed himself in cousin Aki's old blue jeans and baseball shirt and went out to breakfast with his grandfather, enjoyed the swings in a local park, and spent two hours practicing kyuudo with a neighbor boy on the shooting range Haruka and Masahiro had set up on the temple grounds so many years ago.

By suppertime Shizuka was not only healthy but energetically walking with the rest of the family to his favorite yakitori shop.

"If this continues tomorrow, we'll go to the department store and buy you some new boys' clothes," Fuka said, eyes sparkling.

"And I'll register you for school," Keitaro added.

"I like being taught at home."

"You need to be with other children more. You enjoyed kyuudo with Kanto, didn't you?

"Yes." Shizuka still didn't look entirely pleased at the prospect of school.

"Besides, science has changed so much since I was at university," his mother pointed out. "There's so many new things for you to learn."

Now Shizuka looked more agreeable, in between mouthfuls of his supper.

Haruka couldn't stop smiling.

The next day the family spent a small fortune at the local department store buying Shizuka pants, shirts, and boy's underwear. When they returned home for lunch Fuka prepared red beans and rice.

"Shizuka's fine, but I'm exhausted!" Fuka confessed to Haruka. "I'm so grateful, though. And tomorrow he'll be registered for school, and we can buy him proper boys' kimono for the sakura-viewing festival in the park."

Haruka helped her put away the dishes--a practice he'd started after Michiko had gone--then sought out Shizuka, who was on the back porch.

"So, red bean rice!" he began cheerfully.

"It was all right."

"I know." Haruka smiled. "Your father never thought to ask about your mother's cooking skills when they were courting, as I did before your grandmother and I had our marriage interview. This is what comes of marrying for love without having a marriage interview first. Marry someone you love, Shizuka, but make sure you fall in love with an excellent cook."

"I will, Grandfather."

Haruka laughed, and rested his hand on Shizuka's head. "I believe you will. You would be more concerned over someone's cooking skills more than her pretty face or sweet personality."

"I don't like sweet girls. They're annoying."

 _That may change,_ Haruka thought. _Ah, but Shizuka is too young for conversations about girls and marriage._ "So, now that you're strong and healthy, where would you like to go, in your new boy's clothes?"

"A kyuudo match."

Haruka grinned. "I'll take you to the next one I learn about. And we'll go see yabusame too."

Shizuka's eyes shone. "I'd really like that. You used to do that too. Why did you stop?"

"After Nokori became too old for yabusame, I couldn't find another horse to suit me. Also, I was training your father and a new priest, and I didn't have the time to continue."

"Oh. I'll become a priest too, right?"

"If you wish. It is the family tradition, but forcing a man into something as serious as being a priest is not good, I think."

"I think I'd like to be a priest. I've already learned a lot about it."

Haruka laughed. "You've learned a good amount for a ten-year-old, but becoming a priest takes years of study and practice, and it never truly ends." He rested a hand on Shizuka's hair. "You have a gift, too, for repelling youkai. As you grow older, I'll teach you more about how you can use that. For now--look."

Shizuka's sharp eyes followed where his grandfather's hand pointed. "I can't see anything."

Haruka looked at his grandson. "Do you feel anything? A presence?"

"No..."

 _This is odd There's an entire_ procession _of spirits crossing the meadow. How is Shizuka ever going to learn to use his gift?_

That night Haruka dreamed of a boy he'd never seen before, while waking or sleeping-- a slim teenager with startling blue eyes behind a round pair of eyeglasses. The child had a very strong spiritual presence, but seemed oddly detached even for a dream-person, as if he didn't quite belong.

***

Two weeks later, Shizuka went off to school. He mentioned that a couple of boys from the neighborhood had asked why he wasn't dressed like a girl anymore.

"What did you tell them?" his father asked.

"I said that was a protective charm to make me strong. And now that I was strong I didn't need to wear girl's clothes any longer. One of them tried to test how strong I was in the boy's restroom."

"What did you do?" There had been no call from the school so Keitaro didn't look very concerned.

"I pushed him back. His head hit the wall but he wasn't really hurt, and he seemed convinced."

A few days later, an older student took a swing at Shizuka in the schoolyard. The boy promptly found himself on the ground, the breath half knocked out of him. Years of sweeping the temple area and learning kyuudo at home--often while wearing heavy-sleeved kimono--had given Shizuka the strongest arm and chest muscles of any boy in his school. Mindful of his grandfather's lessons, he never started a fight, and after the second incident no one started one with him either.

Haruka asked his grandson if any of his classmates had blue eyes.

"No. Wouldn't the person have to be mixed?"

"Not necessarily. You and I have odd-colored eyes. Such things happen occasionally in some Japanese families."

***

By the time he entered middle school, Shizuka was known for being strong, quiet, and smart. And after the first day of kyuudo club, he started becoming popular. Haruka was quietly proud.

Haruka dreamed about the blue-eyed boy again. He felt protective toward the child, as if...well, as if he were another grandson. Once he realized that, he also sensed something that had been at the edge of his thought when he'd asked if Shizuka had a blue-eyed classmate--this boy was somehow connected to Shizuka.

He called Masahiro and asked what he thought.

"I don't know," his old friend replied. "Certainly my grandson doesn't look anything like that." Masahiro didn't see his son or grandson often, due to the nasty divorce he'd been through more than a decade before. "If the boy is connected to Shizuka, then why are you dreaming about him and not Shizuka?"

"Good question. Prophetic dreams are rare in my family, even more so than the exorcism gift. Also, I'm wondering if I'm supposed to be training them together."

Something clicked in Haruka's mind. _Training together. Shizuka's gift for repelling beings he can't see or sense. Maybe this other boy could see youkai but not dispel them._ He relayed these thoughts to Masahiro.

"Poor kid," Masahiro commented. He's probably tormented by the creatures if that's true. Might they kill him?"

"I have no idea. I don't think so, though. He...impresses me as being quite strong, spiritually."

"Mm. How to find him is the question."

"Exactly. I'll go look in my books again."

The books were unhelpful, until Haruka had a third dream. This time he saw a red thread around the child's little finger. It led...Haruka got the distinct impression it ended right here in the house. In Shizuka's room. When he awoke, he visited Zashiki Warashi.

He told her the dream.

Zashiki's eyebrows went up. "A connection? Yes, the quiet child has a thread, I can sense it very strongly. It's connected to someone currently in this world, and not far away. A strong, pure soul, like the quiet child. The other person is still a child, too. More than that I can't sense."

Haruka nodded. Now he had to look up red-thread connections. Usually they related to love-matches, but he thought he'd seen exceptions. On reading, he discovered that people in close spiritual or physical partnerships sometimes had them too, though it seemed in those cases that more than one type of connection occurred between the two people so linked.

***

One evening in the fall of the year Shizuka was thirteen, Haruka nearly walked in on a fascinating conversation between his son and grandson. Keitaro's even, carefully enunciated tones carried just well enough for Haruka to hear through his grandson's bedroom door.

"And when a girl confesses to you and you don't like her, refuse her very politely. Say, "I am very sorry but I am afraid I cannot return your affections."

"I am very sorry..." Shizuka repeated the sentence mechanically, word for word.

"Remember that. Girls--and women--can make your life miserable if you refuse them or break up with them in an impolite manner. They will tell every other girl they know.

"Yes, Father."

"That is probably the third-most important thing to remember about dealing with women. What are the two most important, Shizuka?"

"Let her always take the lead when it comes to intimate matters. And, always use contraception until you are married and ready to have children."

Keitaro nodded approvingly.

"Can I go get a snack now?"

"Of course." The door opened as Shizuka ran off to the kitchen, unaware his grandfather was just behind the door.

As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Haruka complimented his son on a job well done.

Keitaro sighed. "I could use a snack myself. And a bath. I'd explained the biological aspects to him soon after he started middle school, and that was much easier. Shizuka has such a scientific mind that he understood quickly, and was less embarrassed than I was. Now that Shizuka has had his first confession from a girl, the difficult time has come."

Haruka joined Shizuka and his platter of almond biscuits at the table, explained that he'd caught the end of the conversation, and asked the boy if he had any more questions.

"No....not about girls. Father explained what to do if I like them, or if they like me and I don't like them. So I don't get slapped again."

Haruka' mouth twitched with the effort of hiding a grin. He could just imagine Shizuka's dangerously unvarnished response to the girl. "Ah. Your father has given you some very useful information. I wish my father or grandfather had told me such things."

"But, Grandfather..."

Haruka quickly chewed and swallowed his biscuit. Shizuka's questions required his full attention--and often, all his self-control.

"What if the one I like is a boy?"

 _I'm glad I swallowed that biscuit when I did! At least this is familiar ground for me, and it's good Shizuka didn't ask his father. Keitaro has succumbed to entirely too much Western cultural influence._

"That happens too sometimes." Haruka responded. "Boys can be trickier in a way, because not many of them like other boys. You will need to find out whether a boy you like is the sort who likes other boys, as well as if he might like you in return."

"How?"

It had been so easy for Haruka that first time, living in the same house as Masahiro and being comfortable with each other. Or, no--now that he thought of it, it had been a bit of a shock, and more than a little embarrassing. Until they had turned from talking to touching, at any rate.

Ah, well, he'd try his best. "If he catches you looking at him--you do look at this boy you like?"

Shizuka nodded.

"If he looks back and doesn't seem annoyed, smile at him."

"How will I know if he's annoyed?"

"He'll be frowning, Shizuka, or will stare at you as if he's about to start a fight. If that happens, look away quickly and if he asks "What?" or seems annoyed, apologize. If he looks back at you and smiles, or doesn't seem upset...ask to speak with him in private. Then, once the two of you are alone, tell him how you feel. If he looks confused, then he's either shy or doesn't understand. In that case, you might want to bring him a small gift, and see how he reacts."

Shizuka nodded again. "All right. I'll try that."

Two days later, Shizuka came home from school looking preoccupied, but with a rare almost-smile on his face. Haruka gathered his recommendations had been highly successful.

***

Haruka spent his last months training Shizuka as much as possible, when the boy wasn't at school or kyuudo practices at school.

"Shizuka, I want you to accompany your mother to the Mah Jong game today."

"I want to stay with you. You're sick."

"I won't die tonight."

"Are you going to die?"

" Idiot! Everyone dies."

Shizuka gave him that stare that could bore a hole in a block of concrete. Cheeky boy; he acted almost like a Westerner sometimes. "Mother and Father wouldn't answer when I asked them if you're going to die from this sickness. I thought you would tell me for real."

Haruka sighed. Sometimes being part of a family that followed all the old ways was a hindrance. Fortunately his doctor had no patience with such things and had told him outright about the lung cancer and his chances--or rather, the lack of them--for long-term survival.

"I'll be around long enough to provide you with some training in using your gift of immunity to spirits."

"Till I'm grown up, then."

"Not that long." Damned cigarettes. Why had he ever started? Right, because smoking made him feel mysterious and cool. Teenagers were idiots. "Shizuka, don't ever smoke."

"I won't, Grandfather."

"Good. Now, go ask your mother if you can go with her. And when you're in the house, stay near either your mother or Kunogi-san's daughter."

"All right. Will you tell me why?"

"I want you to go there, observe, and then come back and tell me why you think I sent you."

"Yes, Grandfather." Shizuka bowed slightly and ran out.

***

A few hours later, Shizuka returned, settling into a chair across from Haruka's. He had a subtly smug expression that indicated he knew why he was sent. Or perhaps it was because Kunogi-san had provided snacks that met with the boy's approval.

Haruka straightened in his chair and focused on his grandson. "Why did I send you?"

"It's the girl. She..." Shizuka described how, just as they'd entered, a teacup had shattered against the floor. One of the women, plus a girl about Shizuka's age, had apologized at the same time. Shizuka thought there was something odd about the girl. She turned out to be Kunogi-san's daughter. After quickly greeting Shizuka and his mother she disappeared. When Shizuka tried to follow, Kunogi-san stopped him, offering a plate of sweet buns.

"Naturally, you didn't refuse."

"I didn't." There was the child's almost-not-there smile. "When the mothers were busy playing, I went to find the Kunogi girl. She seemed scared of me at first, but after a while she relaxed. She even smiled and clapped her hands when I turned on the TV. Kunogi said it hadn't been working for a while."

"What do you think, then?"

"Maybe the Kunogi girl makes things break when she's around?"

"Very good!" Haruka smiled.

Shizuka bowed his head slightly.

"There is more."

Shizuka looked up attentively.

"The child's grandmother had brought her to my friend, Kobayashi Masahiro--you remember him from his visit last year."

Shizuka nodded. "He beat both of us at kyuudo."

Haruka laughed. "Not by a great deal, however!" His eyes twinkled. The visit had delighted him from beginning to end, not least of which was the comfort and pleasure of sharing a futon with his old lover. "Kobayashi-san discerned that the young Kunogi girl is a 'bad-luck' child. When he found the family was moving here, he alerted me so I could keep an eye on her. She will likely not have many friends because of her curse. Your immunity to spirits and youkai, however, seems to protect you and anything near you from such a curse."

"So I can use this skill to protect her."

"She needs no protection. None of the mishaps surrounding her will ever harm her. But you can safely be a companion to her."

Haruka debated telling Shizuka about the boy in his dream, the one who would be his companion. Something told him that it was best not to tell him, though. They would meet on their own, and find their way together.

That night, Haruka had yet another dream, one that lay mostly forgotten in his mind but left him with the assurance that Shizuka would have some guidance in training.

"Grandfather?" Shizuka called at Haruka's bedroom door one afternoon.

"Yes, Shizuka. You may enter."

The boy nudged the door open and entered, bearing a tray.

"Atsu--ah, Yamada-kun and I stopped by Star Bakery and bought you some red-bean buns."

"Thank you." Haruka struggled to sit up. He grew weaker every day now, but could always find strength for his grandson and his favorite snack.

"How are you today?"

"Not much worse than yesterday." He smiled slightly.

"I am sorry," Shizuka bowed his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. "I should leave you then...I'd invited Yamada-kun to practice kyuudo here."

Shizuka had never brought a school friend home before. Or used any boy's first name. Clearly this was the young man Shizuka liked. Haruka had to meet this boy, as Shizuka apparently wished him to.

"I'm well enough to meet Yamada-kun, if he's willing to see an old man in his sleeping yukata."

"Yes." Shizuka's face lit up as if Haruka had just set off fireworks. He slipped out the door and entered a moment later with a slim, slightly anxious-looking boy. "Grandfather, this is Yamada Atsushi-kun."

"It's an honor to meet you, Doumeki-sama." The boy bowed slowly and gracefully.

"Welcome to our home, and to the temple, Yamada-kun," Haruka bowed as best he could, propped up on pillows.

"Shizuka has said you are one of the best archers he has ever seen."

"My grandson is most complimentary. I was taught by a Shinto priest who rarely failed to best me at drawing a bow." Dear Masahiro was gone now. Shizuka just might surpass him though, especially with encouragement from this boy boy he clearly adored, judging from how close Shizuka stood to Yamada-kun.

"Thank you, Grandfather. We will not tire you further."

Both boys bowed again and exited quietly. Haruka could see just far enough out the half-open door to observe Shizuka clasping Atsushi-kun's hand.

 _I was concerned he would be lonely once I'm gone, at least until he met Watanuki. But I think he will be all right._


	6. Afterlife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter, heading into canon-Xxxholic time. Haruka watches over his grandson, and soon, over Watanuki also.  
> Rated "Teen" for sexual content.

Haruka had been enduring a fair amount of pain lately, and was relieved one morning to wake up dead. He gathered, through means he didn't quite understand, that he was to watch over his grandson, and the mysterious Watanuki. Time being different in the spirit world and the one humans lived in, he missed his own funeral.

In Haruka's first observation of the human world, Shizuka was walking home from the train station with his parents. The boy was in full kyuudo gear with his bow-and-arrow case slung on his back. He was as tall as his father already, and his voice was deeper than Haruka recalled.

"When I tell Grandfather--" Shizuka halted, head and shoulders suddenly drooping. Then he straightened and continued more quietly. "I think he would have been be pleased that I took first place."

"I'm sure he would." Keitaro, usually not an affectionate man, briefly rested a hand on Shizuka's shoulder.

Once at home, Shizuka carefully checked and put away his kyuudo equipment. Then he changed to his work clothes, took his winter coat from its peg, and went out to rake the yard. When he reached the back porch, he frowned slightly, set aside his rake, and sat on the bench where Haruka used to smoke and tell Shizuka stories. After staring at the pond a moment, Shizuka blinked, pulled out a handkerchief, and sobbed quietly but passionately, burying his head in his hands.

Haruka knelt beside the boy--almost a young man now--and rested a ghost's hand on his head. Shizuka didn't seem to perceive anything, but his sobbing dwindled to a few quiet gulps. Then the boy wiped his face, stowed the handkerchief, and went back to his raking.

***

Try as he could, Haruka couldn't get into Shizuka's dreams or even see what they were. He could watch his daily life, though--finishing his examinations, graduating from junior high school, and saying farewell to Yamada-kun, whose family was moving to Kyoto.

The first day of high school, Shizuka nearly got into a fight with another boy on one of the stairways. Haruka was surprised that anyone would challenge his grandson, who already had a reputation as the only first-year student to be personally invited to try out for the kyuudo club. But this kid--nearly as tall as Shizuka though quite slim--immediately aimed a kick at him. Shizuka simply pulled back and gave the other boy his most forbidding stare.

Haruka followed that gaze back to the foolhardy boy. Unruly hair, glasses, and yes, bright blue eyes. This was Watanuki. But Haruka hadn't perceived him as a violent boy at all....

Shizuka's interactions with Watanuki continued to fascinate Haruka. Instead of each other's names, they usually referred to each other as "jerk" and "idiot." Watanuki waved his arms, stomped, and fussed. Shizuka mostly stared at him, occasionally making comments of three words or less. Oddly, they spent a lot of time in each other's company, together with the Kunogi girl. Watanuki was clearly a gifted chef, judging from the amount of verbal abuse Shizuka put up with to share a bento with him.

And then their training began. Neither boy seemed to recognize it as such, but Haruka found Ichikawa Yuuko-san's methods familiar, if more subtle--and dangerous--than any he'd experienced or provided. He had dealt with the witch himself a few times in the past, handing over a couple of his most valued books but gaining substantial knowledge in return. Now he understood his role with Watanuki; Yuuko-san left a few gaps Haruka felt compelled to fill in.

The first time he entered Watanuki's dream was on the New Year--a time and a dream infused with sufficient power and need to gain him entrance. Haruka rather enjoyed riding a horse again. After that, slipping into the boy's dreams was as simple as entering a bath, and as pleasant. Watanuki was a delight to converse with, and Haruka enjoyed training a child again. If only he could have taught both boys together. _Yuuko is fortunate,_ he mused. Her main pupil was stubborn enough to tax anyone's patience, but both youths were so amusing together. And they made excellent partners, with their complementary supernatural gifts and their common dedication and bravery.

***

Haruka also delighted in watching his grandson fall in love. He suspected Shizuka felt more than a sense of duty the night he stood in the rain waiting for Watanuki to emerge from beneath a hydrangea bush. Watanuki, meanwhile, persisted in his infatuation with the Kunogi girl, who was charming and attractive--she reminded Haruka a little of his own Michiko--but unsuitable not only because of her curse but for her personality. Watanuki needed a protector, not additional danger in his life, and the immovable object to his own irresistible force. And the spiritual and physical attraction between Watanuki and Shizuka was stronger than any Haruka had ever seen before. The red thread he had perceived years ago was now as visible and strong as a trolley cable.

So Haruka was not surprised one night when Watanuki asked, "Do--do you think Dou--your grandson likes me?"

"I think that is an understatement." Haruka smirked.

"You think he likes me a lot?"

"He gave nearly one-third of the blood from his body for you. And half his eye, and he continues to spent what little free time he has after school, kyuudo and his duties at the temple with you."

"He--but why?"

Haruka took another puff of his cigarette. "Watanuki, think about how _you_ feel about _him._ "

"I...I like him, I guess. It's odd, but..." Watanuki sat up, legs crossed. "I...I realize," he looked down at the pattern on his comforter, "you may think it's inappropriate...the way I feel..."

Haruka continued smoking, mainly so he wouldn't smile.

"Damn it, this is hard to say! I like him..." Watanuki waved his arms, " _that_ way. But he acts like such a jerk."

"Tell me how."

"He...one day last week, we were alone in the locker room after gym, and he just...stared at me. You know that stare he has--when he does look at anyone, that is."

Haruka nodded. "What did you do?"

"What do you think? I stared back at him and asked 'What??'" I mean, it's an idiotic thing to do. Watanuki's long fingers picked at the stitching on his comforter.

Haruka set down his cigarette, muttering, "Bad advice, Haruka."

"What?"

"Something I told Shizuka years ago." Haruka smiled ruefully. "Ah, never mind. The two of you have been circling around each other like two dogs in the springtime, not realizing that in your case it's not a bitch you want."

Watanuki stared at him, clearly clueless.

"You're in love with each other. It's as clear as...as water from that sacred well you two went to for Yuuko-san."

"I...I...but...I thought I loved Himawari-chan..."

"You may have." _I'd better say this right out; for such a gifted boy this one is amazingly dense_. "Notice that you said 'thought' not 'think.' Also, love is notorious for creeping up on you so you don't notice till it's curled all about you like that pipe-fox that adores you so."

"I...can't imagine Doumeki feeling that way about me."

Haruka smiled. "He does. You should see..." No, he'd better not mention what Shizuka wrote in his journal.

"Hmm." After a few moments of pondering, Watanuki faced Haruka again, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Haruka, what shall I do? I want to let him know."

"Shizuka is a person of actions, rather than words."

"I...should get him chocolates for Valentine's Day?"

Now Haruka laughed outright. "No need to do that, or to wait so long. Just arrange a time when you can both be alone, and then take him in your arms."

"Wha--he'll shoot me with one of his arrows!"

Haruka laughed again. "If he shoots you, it won't be with an arrow." He stubbed out his cigarette and shook his head.

"You mean..." Watanuki finally got it, and blushed furiously. "Not...not _that_ , not yet!"

"Perhaps not that first time, but I doubt the two of you will want to wait long."

With that, Haruka took his leave. He couldn't help wondering what Watanuki's next dream would be like, but he knew it would be impolite to stay around to observe it.

***

Haruka couldn't resist following his grandson when Watanuki invited him to his home that Saturday. Doumeki brought excellent--and expensive--snow crab as a gift.

"I suppose you expect me to cook you that!" Watanuki scowled after opening the ice-packed box.

"Of course."

"I'd made you tri-color onigiri and shrimp dumplings."

"I'd like those too."

Watanuki opened his mouth, then closed it. "I'll put this away," he muttered. Then he added "Thanks," over his shoulder.

Shizuka simply took a seat on one of the cushions Watanuki had set out.

When Watanuki returned from his tiny kitchen, he settled onto the other cushion, quite close. "Doumeki...I...haven't been...haven't shown it very well but...." He held out a hand. "I...reallylikeyou." Watanuki leaned forward, reaching for Doumeki's hand, and tilted his head so their mouths were on the same level.

Doumeki's eyes widened as much as they could. He reached out in return.

Somehow they got their arms around each other without falling over. Their lips were almost touching. Then...

 _Not a bad first kiss. That's a good start._ Haruka knew all would be well, though perhaps awkward. And that it would be impolite to watch any longer.

***

Haruka's next meeting with Watanuki was in the boy's room again. The young man was tangled in his comforter and shaking his head wildly.

"Ah, oh, noo...oh, Haruka."

"Good evening." Haruka smiled, smoke drifting about his head.

"I...damn, this is all so embarrassing."

Haruka waited.

"My last dream--we tried--I can't--I don't, but--" Watanuki waved his arms as if he were beating some giant bowl of cake batter in the air.

"Try using nouns."

"I...ah....Sex!" Watanuki was bright red. "I want...but I can't, even in my dreams!"

"Why not?"

"I..." Watanuki buried his face in the tangle of comforter. "mmf...dun..no..how..."

"Watanuki," Haruka reached down and stroked the young man's hair. "No one knows quite how to do it, the first time. Now sit up, and talk so I can understand you."

Watanuki sat upright again, not quite facing Haruka.

"I really, really don't know how. I have no memory of what I might have heard of...such things."

 _Ah. Watanuki's memory problem. He only remembers what he needs to remember, at the time he needs it._

"Have you tried just letting things take their course, when the two of you are alone?"

"That's worked so far, but...I'm afraid I won't remember, or I'll do it badly, and he'll laugh."

"Shizuka won't laugh." _He'll be too aroused, and too concerned about doing things just right himself. Ah, well, I suppose I should come right out and recommend the most basic method, the one that worked so well for me and Masahiro..._ "Do you remember how to please yourself?"

"Uhh..." Watanuki was clearly thinking hard. He started to hold out his hand, then quickly tucked it under the covers. "I..." he bit his lip and blushed, "...think so. Once I get started, I do all right, I guess."

"That's a good way to start, then, with something you both know well." Haruka smiled and stroked Watanuki's cheek lightly. "That's how my first time was, and it was quite successful."

"You...with another guy? But you were married!"

Haruka laughed. "I was single until I was nearly thirty! I had lovers before my marriage, as most men do, and the first two were young men. I'm attracted to both genders, as you apparently are."

"Oh." Watanuki answered in a small voice, mismatched eyes wide. After a moment, he edged back just a tiny bit on the futon.

"Don't worry; I'm not going to seduce you. You belong absolutely to my Shizuka, and he is yours. Haruka smiled a bit ruefully. "I'm not the sort of spirit that can do that anyway."

Watanuki nodded. "Sorry. So...I guess I'll be all right the first time, anyway. And I suppose I could go to 2-chome and buy a book that would help."

"No need. The perfect book is in my old bedroom. My son and daughter-in-law haven't changed anything in the room, fortunately. It's an large, old book, deep-red leather and tied with a cord. It should be on the lowest shelf in the bookcase."

"Thank you!" Watanuki bowed from a sitting position. "Thank you so much, Haruka-san!"

"Enjoy yourselves." Haruka's eyes gleamed as he grinned. "Now, sleep well. I'm sure Yuuko-san has a busy afternoon planned for you, and you'll want plenty of energy for this weekend."

Watanuki fell asleep smiling.

***

The next time Haruka looked in on the two, they were on their way to the shop.

His grandson was saying, "My parents will be away tomorrow and Sunday. I'll ask Mother to buy whatever you want to cook."

Watanuki didn't complain about Shizuka's assumption.

"Then we can use the bath." Shizuka continued, his voice very quiet. "And, if you want..." his head nearly touched Watanuki's now, "we can--"

Watanuki didn't let him finish the sentence. _"Yes."_

***

Haruka resolutely stayed away from the temple that weekend. He did slip into Watanuki's dreams, though. They sat on the back porch of the temple building, in Haruka's old spot.

"All went well, eh?" he asked.

Watanuki blushed, but nodded, smiling. "Very well." They both sat in silence.

"Oh," Watanuki suddenly breathed, blinking.

Instantly Haruka was alone on the porch. Evidently something had awakened Watanuki. Haruka couldn't resist peeking into his grandson's room, where the two young men shared the small futon. Shizuka was nuzzling into the curve of Watanuki's neck.

"Ow!" Watanuki sat upright, knocking Shizuka away. "Why'd you bite me?!"

"Your skin is delicious," Shizuka explained, edging closer again.

"I'm not a late-night snack!"

"Yes you are."

Shizuka captured his quarry in his arms. The comforter undulated as they struggled together.

"Again?" Watanuki demanded, twisting his head to face his companion.

"Mm. Perhaps all night."

Watanuki narrowed his eyes and they glared at each other for several seconds. Then the comforter writhed some more as Watanuki started on his own plans for a late-night snack. "Your grandfather better not be watching," he muttered.

Haruka took the hint and exited. _They'll be harassing each other for years to come. And learning a thousand new ways to do it._


End file.
